


will you call my name?

by roguefembot



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst and Romance, Breakfast Club AU, But only briefly mentioned, Explicit Language, F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Lots of character growth, Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, SO, Teen Romance, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, angst angst, complete :), fluff too maybe sometimes hashtag eyes emoji, it's in the movie too lolol sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2020-11-05 23:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20783993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguefembot/pseuds/roguefembot
Summary: Park Chaewon is captain of the dance team, student council president, and the resident princess of Shermer High School. Son Hyejoo is an outcast, a criminal, and a bully.They don't have anything in common - except for detention, that is.(or, the breakfast club au that's kind of a whole other thing)





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys!!!!!!!!!!! i've been working on this for a couple months now and I'm finally far enough into the writing that I feel comfortable posting the first part! this is a breakfast club au but you don't have to have seen the movie to understand it because i've changed............ so much, lmao. it's mostly just inspired by the film but anyways it's a great movie and you should watch it if you haven't~
> 
> without further ado,

_\- prologue -_

“Oh my God, can you stop stressing?” Sooyoung bursts, frustration getting the best of her between smacks of the gum in her mouth. She abandons her compact mirror to focus her attention on Chaewon, who is not-so-subtly wringing her hands instead of fishing books out of her locker. “I told you everything was gonna be fine.”

“You don’t _know_ that though!” Chaewon returns shrilly. A sudden snap alerts her to the fact that she’s bent her thumbnail so hard that it’s broken off, and she pouts down at her ruined French manicure. The stupidly expensive nail job was half the reason she was even in this position.

Sooyoung simply tosses her ponytail over her shoulder and leans her hip against the lockers. “I called the school pretending to be your mom, didn’t I?” Chaewon nods. “Besides, it already happened. We ditched school for a day. There’s no point worrying about it now.”

“And look what I have to show for it,” Chaewon whines, holding her ruined thumbnail up for Sooyoung’s inspection. She bats her eyelashes sadly as Sooyoung rolls her eyes.

“That’s what happens when you worry too much,” she dismisses.

Chaewon sighs, turning to her locker to retrieve the next couple of books she needs and then using her forehead to close it so that she can wallow in her misery with her skin pressed against cool metal. The peace of it only lasts for a moment, as the next second her head is jostled by the reverberation from a nearby commotion.

When she looks up, she spots Son Hyejoo slamming some nerd into a locker five spaces down. She has on her signature leather jacket, ripped jeans and a flannel tied around her waist. Two fingerless-gloved fists suspend a short girl with three buns in her hair about two feet off the ground.

“Lunch money,” she says. It’s not even a demand — more like a statement of expectation.

The girl with the buns retrieves a paper bill from her back pocket with practiced ease, tucking it into Hyejoo’s lapel with a scowl on her face. Hyejoo promptly drops her.

“You’re going to regret all of this when I’m in the next Run-D.M.C.,” spits the tiny firecracker.

Hyejoo’s face looks blank for a moment, and then she squares up at the girl like she’s going to hit her. The girl flinches back, much to Hyejoo’s delight.

“Scram, loser.”

Bunhead scurries away, but not before placing her Walkman headphones back on.

“What the hell is Run-D.M.C. anyways,” Hyejoo scoffs to herself, eyes catching on Chaewon’s gaze as she does so. “Gotta problem?”

Chaewon rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. Hyejoo may have decided she was going to be an asshole that went by the name “Olivia Hye” the moment she hit puberty, but Chaewon isn’t just any old loser that she can threaten into submission. She’s been going to school with Hyejoo since kindergarten. She witnessed her Cabbage Patch Kids phase.

“If anyone has a problem, _Hyejoo_, it’s probably the person slamming midgets into lockers,” she shoots back.

Hyejoo’s eyes narrow, and Chaewon crosses her arms.

“I’ve got time for another,” Hyejoo says lowly.

“I don’t,” Chaewon returns, and in an example of the universe miraculously taking her side, the bell for first period rings. “See you in homeroom,” she smarts, shit-eating grin firmly in place.

Sooyoung bumps her hip as they walk away.

“I can’t believe Olivia just, like, lets you get away with that crap,” she marvels.

Chaewon flicks her golden hair over her shoulder. “I’m the first dance team captain to still be a junior and the student council president, Sooyoungie. I could probably get her expelled or something.”

-

The moment Chaewon settles into her seat, second from the last row and one to the right of center, Jiwoo turns in her seat next to her. Said seat is, of course, in the actual center. Jiwoo wouldn’t be Jiwoo if it weren’t.

“Where were you yesterday?” she pouts. Chaewon feels a mischievous smirk curl her lips.

“Sooyoung and I went to the mall,” she brags. Her agonizing over the decision not even five minutes ago is totally irrelevant.

Jiwoo’s pout deepens, and the expressive girl even manages to widen her eyes. “And you guys didn’t invite me?”

Chaewon furrows her brows. “Would you have come?”

“No,” Jiwoo exhales, batting at Chaewon’s shoulder when she laughs, “but it still would’ve been nice to be invited!”

“Sorry. It was kind of a last-minute decision.”

Jiwoo nods. “I’m honestly a little surprised you even went.”

Before Chaewon can bolster up the false confidence to sell how much of a _not_-goody-two-shoes she is, Hyejoo bursts through the door ahead of the final bell (which is unusual) and takes her seat behind Chaewon (which is not unusual).

She props her combat boots up on her desk, the heels trapping the tips of Chaewon’s hair. Chaewon scowls and primly extricates herself.

“Do you always have to be obnoxious?” she sniffs.

“Do you always have to be a priss?” Hyejoo shoots back.

Chaewon rolls her eyes and adjusts her new plaid blazer. “At least _I_ have a future,” she closes, and then focuses her attention on Mr. Kim.

Not even five minutes into an explanation of derivatives, the same bun-headed girl from before class steps into the room.

“I, uh, have a letter from the principal for Park Chaewon,” she announces, somehow shier now than she was facing down a towering bully. Every ounce of blood in Chaewon’s body drains to her toes while Mr. Kim indicates for the girl to deliver the folded piece of paper. Chaewon accepts it with shaking hands.

_Miss Park Chaewon,_

She gulps, blood rushing in her ears so loudly that her surroundings are entirely drowned out.

_It has come to our attention that the call made yesterday excusing you from class was a hoax. In light of this revelation, your absence is truant. Under ordinary circumstances, this would be a minor infraction on your record. As student council president, however, Shermer High School must hold you to higher standards._

_You are to report to Saturday morning detention for the next four weeks. While you complete your punishment, your status as president and as dance team captain will be suspended. Once completed, you will be reinstated, and this incident will be wiped from your permanent record._

_Sincerely,_

_Principal Jeong_

She’s going to scream. She’s actually going to scream, right in the middle of class. It’s building in her chest, expanding her lungs and crawling up her throat.

Someone chuckles darkly behind her, and it causes her to freeze.

“Guess I’ll see you in detention, princess,” Hyejoo mocks. “Quite a future, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope y'all enjoyed the prologue! please leave kudos/comments if you did, they make me very happy and keep me motivated!!! stay tuned for more, and... any guesses who else is gonna be in the breakfast club? :D


	2. week one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYOOOOO I'M BACK, BABAY! first of all, this is probably a good time to mention that this fic switches POVs every chapter, so.... it's hyejoo's turn :D also, i feel like i should state explicitly that 1) this takes place in the 80s and 2) the title of the fic is taken from lyrics from "don't you (forget about me)" by simple minds, which is basically the breakfast club's theme song.
> 
> okay enough blabbering i hope y'all enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!

_= week one =_

Saturday morning detentions at Shermer High School are held between 8:00 am and 12:00 pm on the dot, led by Principal Jeong. Olivia would know, as she attends most of them. She’s also perfected the art of sly defiance in the face of Principal Jeong, which is why she shows up exactly 45 seconds late — he wouldn’t enact a harsh punishment until 8:01.

“So nice of you to join us today, Son Hyejoo,” he greets coldly, the flash of a threat in his narrowed eyes. He stands at the front of the loft-style library, hands clasped as he leans against a wooden table next to a blackboard.

The other detainees, all in Olivia’s grade, are already there: a girl in an oversized yellow sweater huddled over her desk in the back row, whom Olivia knows as Kim Hyunjin from Chemistry; some bespectacled nerd with a bob cut that Olivia is pretty sure she’s seen hanging around little Yeojin; Jeon Heejin, star of Drama Club, every school-held theater play, and even a couple of used car commercials; and finally, Park Chaewon, the princess of Shermer High, who sits primly next to Heejin in a fluffy pink coat that leaves her swimming.

Olivia smirks and makes a beeline for the chair directly behind Chaewon. Though she doesn’t acknowledge Olivia’s presence, Chaewon’s back stiffens under Olivia’s expectant gaze.

“Out of consideration for Miss Son’s slight tardiness, detention will go until,” Principal Jeong glances at his wristwatch, “12:05.” When the room bursts into objections, he holds up a silencing hand. “Take your complaints up with her; maybe it’ll teach her something.”

Principal Jeong leaves the room to Olivia’s rolled eyes. She thinks she sees Chaewon glancing her way in her peripheral vision, but the moment passes before she can confirm it.

-

Detentions of any kind are notoriously boring, but if a four-hour detention like this wasn’t already bad enough, the knowledge that Chaewon is sitting not even three whole feet away is even worse. Olivia itches to pester her, to be on the receiving end of her glare or one of her infamous pouts.

She settles for flicking her lighter sloppily, aiming for maximum boisterousness, and then slamming her combat boot on the desk so that she can hold the flame up to her rubber sole. She watches as the flame shies away until the rubber softens, as Chaewon fidgets in her seat, as the pattern of her sole warps until she flicks the cap closed. When she looks up, Hyunjin is gazing curiously, mouth slightly agape. The moment their eyes lock, though, Hyunjin barks and slams her arms on the desk and her head onto her arms.

Olivia chuckles, trades her lighter for a pocketknife, and scrapes the flat edge of the blade against the wooden desk. Chaewon seizes up but doesn’t turn around.

“What—what are you doing?” pipes up a quiet voice from Olivia’s left, tone even instead of accusatory. It’s the bespectacled girl. Olivia drags the knife a little louder, lips twitching.

“Sharpening my knife, four-eyes. How do you think I get your little friend to give me her lunch money?” The girl’s eyes widen for a moment, but Olivia can only hold her glare for so long before she’s bursting into laughter. “I’m kidding,” she shrugs, to the other girl’s bewilderment, and then starts carving into the desk.

“She’s… actually my sister,” the voice continues just as she’s finishing up a haphazard _SH_, wanting Principal Jeong to know exactly who did the damage. Olivia looks up from her handiwork with raised eyebrows.

“You’re kidding?!” she grins, aggressively slamming the knife into the desk as she stands and makes her way over to the girl. She claps her on the shoulder and revels at the way the girl tries to hide her flinch. “Small world!” she exclaims, and then quiets her voice to continue conspiratorially, “You know it’s kinda sad if your only friend is your sister, right?”

The girl sniffs. “My best friend is Wong Kahei, actually.”

“The senior?” Olivia asks, slightly impressed, and the girl nods. “So your only two friends are a freshman and a senior, huh?”

Suddenly, a tiny but incensed voice cuts in from the front of the room. “Will you just shut up and leave her alone?”

Olivia locks eyes with Chaewon.

Chaewon, whose face is dusted pink in her flustered state, whose eyebrows are bunched together in undeniable irritation, whose nose is scrunched delicately as she chews on the inside of her cheek.

“I’m not _bothering_ her, we’re making friends,” Olivia shoots back, once more clapping the girl on the shoulder. “Isn’t that right, uh…?”

“Haseul,” the girl returns flatly.

“My good buddy Haseul!” Olivia announces. Chaewon’s nostrils flare, something Olivia only notices because she’s looking for it, and Olivia smirks in return.

“Don’t get jealous, Wonnie.” Then she stalks closer, perching herself on the end of her desk so she’s right behind Chaewon. The smaller girl glares over the arm she has draped on her chair.

“You’re awfully full of yourself for someone who makes a living out of annoying people,” Chaewon says. She makes her sanctimonious face afterwards, the one where one eyebrow rises and her lips pinch together, and Olivia can’t help the chuckle she lets out. It only lasts a moment before she pouts mockingly.

“Tsk tsk. Lying by omission — or avoidance, as the case may be — is still a sin, you know, Gowon?”

Chaewon’s eyebrows knit back together. “Gowon? Why are you calling me that?”

“Why do you call me Hyejoo?” Olivia returns, voice barely louder than the sudden galloping of her heart in her chest.

“I asked first!”

“So?”

Chaewon rolls her eyes and huffs. “You’re insufferable.”

“Oooh, SAT word,” Olivia smarts like she can’t help it — and when it comes to Chaewon, she really can’t.

“Oh my God, please be quiet for at least five minutes,” Heejin suddenly bursts, Hyunjin barking in agreement. The star actress is in the process of opening some gum, but it appears she can’t even concentrate enough to unwrap the packaging.

“Oh my God,” Olivia gasps, “Can you not multitask?!”

“Hyejoo.”

This time, Chaewon is flushed red, sweaty in her anger for her friend. Olivia clamps her mouth shut.

“Just sit down,” the small girl orders through clenched teeth. Olivia doesn’t want to look like she’s cowering, _can’t_ look like she’s cowering, so she holds up her hands with mockingly innocent eyes and backs into her chair.

Chaewon nods, satisfied, and Olivia smothers the preening flower blooming in her chest.

-

Olivia endures about twenty minutes of silence before she’s launching herself out of her chair and making a beeline for the propped-open library entrance. She hears Chaewon gasp, but it’s Heejin who speaks next.

“What are you doing now?” she asks, sounding like Olivia’s antics have already exhausted her.

Before responding, Olivia rips out the pin holding the door open, swiftly grabbing hold of the handle so she can guide it into a gentle and quiet close.

“Principal won’t be back to check on us for at least an hour, and when he does, this,” she drags a nearby book cart to blockade the door, “will slow him down for a bit.”

This time, Haseul pipes up, one eyebrow high on her forehead, “Why do we need to slow him down?”

“So we can do something fun and still have enough time to get back to our seats before he finds out,” Olivia returns mischievously.

Chaewon finally joins in on the conversation. “What fun are we going to get up to during detention in a library? I’m not gonna set books on fire or whatever it is you like to do.”

“No? Good thing that’s a lame dare that I’d never waste a turn on,” Olivia says. Chaewon’s eyes narrow.

“What are you getting at?”

“Truth or dare,” she grins. Then she breezes down the aisle between desks as she makes her way towards the staircase to the lofted second floor, not giving anyone a chance to properly protest before she tosses out, “C’mon, Hyunjin, I’ll bet you’re not a coward.”

The strange girl meows this time, but it sounds affirmative, and she follows it up by clambering after Olivia. The remaining three exchanging hesitant glances before they follow suit, Olivia catches.

-

“If we’re really doing this,” Chaewon says, legs tucked underneath herself and angled slightly to the right while everyone else sits cross-legged in their circular formation, “I want to start.”

Olivia leans back on her palms, pretending to contemplate it as she scans Chaewon’s earnest face. Truth be told, she sat directly across from her on purpose.

“By all means, your highness,” she says finally. Chaewon’s gaze on her turns calculating.

“Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“Really?” Chaewon scoffs, and Olivia shrugs.

“First turn; I’m easing into it.” She leans forward then, voice even despite the rush of blood in her veins. “Ask me anything.”

For a moment, Chaewon simply sits there, biting her lip. Then, “Why did you call me Gowon?”

“Really?” Olivia mimics. The corner of Chaewon’s mouth turns up.

“I’m easing into it,” she shoots back, and Olivia can't help but mirror her smirk.

“You remind me of a bubblegum popstar, like one of those Go-Go’s chicks.”

It makes Chaewon pout dejectedly. “The only blonde in that group right now has short hair. Also, they’re totally _not_ bubblegum pop.”

“I guess you’d know,” Olivia taunts, the toes of her boots knocking together as she stretches her legs out. Chaewon runs her fingers through the hair at the crown of her head.

“We don’t all want authority figures and our music alike to scream at us,” she returns.

“Yeah, well, it’s my turn now,” Olivia says. She contemplates challenging Chaewon right back, feels a little thrill at the possibility of it, but it’d be a bit unfair to the rest of the group if they just ping-ponged back and forth. Transparent, too, since then it’d be obvious Olivia’s only really interested in messing with the princess.

“Hyunjin,” she prompts instead. The girl meows in response, and Olivia figures she’ll be up for something weird. “Truth or dare.”

“Dare.” Her response is immediate, the upward tilt of her chin a challenge in itself.

Olivia’s gaze flickers around the library as she considers her options. She could get the girl to climb the statue of the school’s founder, probably, but that’s not ultimately very exciting. Maybe she has a special talent or something? Olivia is still weighing her options when she hears Heejin loudly pop a bubble of gum to Hyunjin’s left. Her mouth curls.

“I dare you to chew Heejin’s gum.”

“Ew, Hyejoo-“ Chaewon starts, but Hyunjin already has a grip on Heejin’s jaw so she can pluck the gum right out of her mouth. Afterwards, she pops it into her own and smacks obnoxiously.

Heejin’s face is beet red.

“No biggie,” Hyunjin shrugs. Chaewon starts coughing, presumably to conceal her gag, and Olivia chuckles in response.

Then Hyunjin turns to the brainiest person present, sitting quietly between Olivia and Chaewon. “You. Haseul, right?” The girl nods. “Truth or dare?”

Haseul seems nervous as she glances around the group, but gradually a determined glint enters her eyes. She buzzes in her seat when she returns, “Dare.”

In return, Hyunjin grins, pointy canines on display. “I dare you to jump down from here to the first floor.”

A moment passes where Haseul scrunches her face, but then she’s letting out a breath and nodding. Chaewon gapes.

“What?! She’ll break her leg,” the blonde girl protests.

“Relax,” Olivia says, rolling her eyes. “She won’t.”

“She might!”

“She won’t.”

“Hyejoo!”

Olivia stands abruptly, dusting off the back of her jeans. “Alright, alright,” she relents, and then bounds down the stairs to drag a beanbag chair from the reading corner to right below the section of railing closest to the group still upstairs. “This’ll break her fall.”

Though Chaewon chews on her lip, she nods to give Olivia her silent assent. In turn, Olivia motions grandly towards the beanbag chair. “Whenever you’re ready, four-eyes.”

“You know, me doing this should show that I’m a lot more than just a four-eyes,” Haseul says, stretching her legs in alternating flamingo poses. Olivia places her hands on her waist.

“Do it and I’ll consider calling you something else.”

With a nod, Haseul crawls over the railing one leg swing at a time. It takes a moment of deep, calming breaths before she makes a jump for it. The other girls are drawn to the railing like magnets, wide eyes following her trajectory. Finally, she lands on the beanbag chair on her knees. Her eyes are scrunched and her hands balled into fists, but as soon as she realizes she's landed safe and sound, she starts hopping up and down and cheering. Olivia claps her on the back.

“Nice job, birdbrain,” she congratulates.

Haseul is still too delighted to be offended. Instead, she shrugs and says, “You know what? I’ll take it,” throwing a dorky thumbs up.

When she turns to the others, Heejin looks downright queasy.

“Heejin?” Haseul calls.

The girl blinks, dazed. Haseul continues: “Truth or dare?”

“Uhhh… I think I’ll go with truth,” Heejin returns shakily.

“Okay,” Haseul says, and then pauses. “I’ll, uh, think of something on the way up,” she continues sheepishly. Olivia follows her as everyone reclaims their place on the second floor.

Once they’re settled, Haseul tucks some hair behind her ear before turning toward Heejin. “If you saw me in the hallway, now that you know me… would you talk to me?”

It’s an unexpectedly serious question, all things considered. The ensuing silence feels weighted, and, subsequently, Olivia tries her best to keep her breaths measured.

Heejin scrunches her eyebrows together. “I wouldn’t ignore you, if that’s what you mean.”

That seems to be enough for Haseul, who simply nods and ducks.

There’s a moment then where Heejin tilts her head and swivels her gaze between Chaewon and Olivia. When Olivia glances Chaewon’s way, curious what she might be communicating to Heejin, she finds that Chaewon has simply tilted her head right back.

“Um, Olivia,” Heejin seems to have decided. Olivia almost points out that Chaewon hasn’t even gone yet, but then she realizes that she’ll get to challenge Chaewon next turn and decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“I thought you were just warming up,” Chaewon mocks. Her lips are pursed and her arms are crossed and she looks like a bratty little doll.

Olivia simply shrugs. “You were right,” she concedes, “There aren’t many options for dares in here.”

A peculiar expression crosses Chaewon’s face in response, cheeks lightly dusted pink as her eyebrows jump.

“How come you’re in detention?” Heejin continues, and Olivia refocuses.

“This time, you mean?”

Heejin chuckles a bit. “Yeah, this time.”

Olivia fixes her gaze skyward, unwilling to look any of the group in the eye for fear they’ll see the way the blood drains from her face. “I cheated on a test,” she admits, and the words are caught between the lightness with which she intends them and the smallness of her voice.

“Why would _you_ bother to cheat on a test?” Chaewon asks, genuinely perplexed.

Olivia glares at her. “Turn is over; she already asked her question,” she returns, to Chaewon’s rolled eyes. Then, “Truth or dare, princess?”

“Truth, obviously,” she sniffs.

Olivia feels like a predator zeroing in on their prey, her eyes narrowing as she appraises Chaewon.

“Haseul’s question… if you saw any of us in the hallway — besides Heejin, that is — would you approach?” It feels like her chest is inflating, the experience neither pleasant nor unpleasant just yet, simply pressurized, and she knows Chaewon’s answer will be the deciding factor.

Chaewon wrings her hands together, perfectly manicured nails catching on each other. “I, uh,” she bites her lip, then admits in a tiny voice, “Probably not, no.”

That pressure in Olivia’s chest drops like a weight to her stomach, and she grimaces at the sickly feeling.

“So you’d just ignore us?” she prompts, but it’s not enough, and suddenly she can’t stop, “Princess can slum it for a detention or two but she can’t associate outside her social circle in front of anyone that matters, right?”

“No, I-“ Chaewon squeezes out, mouth still working afterwards as she tries to formulate her thoughts into words, but Olivia is so heated she almost cuts her off again when-

The book cart jostles against the door. A pause, and then it jostles a little harder, like someone is doubling up on their efforts.

They all flee back to their seats.

-

Principal Jeong doesn’t notice anything untoward when he returns, except that that book cart shouldn’t have been there. By now he’s pretty used to Olivia’s minor inconveniences, though, so he declines to assign another punishment just yet.

The whole thing is a good distraction, really, because it gives Olivia time to calm down and realize she was riling herself up for no reason. Of course Chaewon doesn’t want to associate with losers outside of detention. The girl had been saying as much to Olivia’s face for years now. If Olivia let some seedling of hope sprout inside of her that things would be different, she shouldn’t have, and she’s glad to be ripping it out now before the roots could set.

That doesn’t keep her from engaging in her favorite past time of pestering Chaewon, though.

The principal is only gone for about ten minutes when Chaewon suddenly reaches into her bag and withdraws a brown paper bag. Olivia practically tips her chair over trying to get a proper look over her shoulder, and after a moment it becomes apparent that Chaewon is setting out the contents of a cheese-and-cracker snack pack. Just when Olivia thinks that alone looks dry as shit, Chaewon whips out a grape juice box.

Olivia scoffs loudly. “Do you think you get special treatment or something?”

Chaewon pauses, taps her fingernails on the desk, and declines to turn around. She does, however, respond, “If I remember correctly, _you_ were the one who started disobeying rules in the first place. Or is it normal to have a lighter and knife on school grounds?”

It’s a well-executed uppercut to Olivia’s snark, and it’s enough to quiet her until she can come up with something else. Chaewon is two blissful bites in when inspiration hits.

“Did mommy pack that for you before your big day?” she probes, shifting around in her seat in a purposefully distracting manner.

“As if.” Chaewon rolls her eyes, finally sparing Olivia a glance, and the tone of her voice is so peculiarly miffed that Olivia’s ears perk. “I packed this myself. I don’t think either of my parents have ever packed me lunch, let alone a snack.”

The vulnerability of it makes Olivia bite her lip, but the words bubble up anyway: “Yeah, well, my dad wouldn’t be caught dead packing me anything either.”

This time, Chaewon’s gaze lingers a bit, and it makes Olivia fidget like a germ under a microscope.

“Why do you need a snack?” she asks, just to change the subject.

Chaewon, thankfully, lets it go. “I have dance practice after this, and I won’t get a chance to eat in between.”

“You know there are vending machines between here and the theater building now?” Haseul chips in. Olivia and Chaewon both swivel towards her, movements jerky from startlement. Sometimes Olivia forgets that there are people besides Chaewon in any given room. “It costs money, obviously, but it’s an option if you’re in a hurry.”

Chaewon nods. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

-

Time passes a little more quickly after that, everyone falling into a sort of lull while they start working on homework, as the case may be with Haseul, or other miscellaneous projects, as the case is with Olivia. She figures if she starts chipping away at the bottom of the standing blackboard now, it’ll be noticeably crooked by the end of the month. Another minor inconvenience for the Principal to contend with.

It is as she is sawing away with her pocketknife that she overhears Chaewon and Heejin attempting to whisper covertly to each another.

“You don’t think Eric’s parents will find out?” Heejin worries, twirling the pen in her hand. “Last time he threw a party, people trashed the place.”

Chaewon shakes her head. “His parents are gone for a week this time so even if the place gets trashed, he’ll have plenty of time to fix it up.”

When Heejin only bites her lip silently, Chaewon ducks her head to pester her. “C’mon, please? I never know if Sooyoungie is gonna go or not until I see her there and I need a buddy.”

“What’s this I hear about a party?” Olivia butts in loudly, smoothly flipping her pocketknife closed. She stands and makes her presence apparent to two mildly irritated faces. “Eric’s house, right?”

“Honestly, Hyejoo, I doubt you’re invited,” Chaewon says. It lacks her usual snark and is instead simply stated.

Olivia only shrugs. “Those are the best kinds of parties.” Chaewon looks like she might say something more, but Olivia turns to Hyunjin and Haseul. “Either of you feel like hitting up a snooty get-together of tomorrow’s Wall Street financers?”

Though Haseul looks terrified at the suggestion, there’s the beginning of a smile playing on Hyunjin’s lips. “If I have nothing better to do,” she says, and Olivia already knows she’ll see her there.

Olivia takes one last look at Chaewon, who would seem exasperated if it weren’t for the way her mouth twitches.

-

Truth be told, Olivia doesn’t know why she invited herself to a party with a bunch of people she would rather die than hang out with. Sometimes her desire to sow general discord outweighs her rationality, but she does think there’s probably a small part of her that wanted to upend Chaewon’s delicate world just a bit in light of what the girl had admitted during that game of Truth or Dare.

Still, she’s not going to have a good time if she’s all by her lonesome. So, she brings a friend.

Her only friend.

Technically speaking, Yerim — as a member of the Yearbook Club — was invited anyways, but that doesn’t negate the fact that Olivia coerces her into showing up an hour late with four stolen beers from the convenience store stuffed in Olivia’s jacket pockets. Yerim didn’t actually participate in the petty crime, but she had years of experience being Olivia’s reluctant accomplice under her belt and tonight is no different.

They make it to the living room without getting stopped by anyone pretentious, where a raucous crowd surrounds a surprisingly sociable Hyunjin at the head of a beer pong table. She sinks a ping pong ball into one of three remaining cups at the other end of the table seamlessly, and the tipsy crowd erupts into cheers that make it obvious she’s been doing this for the last hour. Heejin hovers to her right, face flushed pink with an alcohol-induced blush and a goofy, oddly proud smile on her face.

Olivia doesn’t see Chaewon anywhere, but when Hyunjin’s gaze catches on hers briefly, they share a nod of acknowledgment. In some ways, they’re on one side and everyone else is on the other.

“You know her?” Yerim asks, chin tipped towards Hyunjin.

“I know lots of people,” Olivia shrugs, but she’s bullshitting and Yerim knows it so the brunette snickers.

“C’mon, lame-o, help me find something to drink that isn’t lukewarm from your body heat.”

Yerim grabs her wrist, and Olivia follows her to the kitchen.

-

When they stumble through a heavy flapping door into a marbled kitchen that probably costs more than Olivia’s whole house, there is only one other occupant: Chaewon. She turns at their entrance and raises her eyebrows before going back to the plastic cup she’s stirring with a pink straw.

“Hey, Wonnie,” Olivia calls, and it’s Yerim’s turn to raise her eyebrows at the unexpectedly friendly outburst. It came out much louder than Olivia had been intending.

When Chaewon turns and sips at her straw before responding, Yerim’s face becomes conspiratorial, like she knows something they don't. Olivia can’t stand the burn of her calculating gaze and launches herself onto the countertop across from Chaewon instead.

“What’chya got there?” she probes.

This close, she can see that Chaewon’s gaze is unfocused, that her moonish face is just the slightest bit puffy. Chaewon gulps loudly and her cheekbones turn rosy.

“Liquid,” she smarts.

Yerim sidles up to them then, peering behind Chaewon at the assorted glass bottles set out on the countertop. “What did you get?” she asks kindly, pointing to Chaewon’s cup. Even Shermer High’s princess couldn’t possibly resist Yerim’s endearing positivity. It practically pours out of her.

“Mixed vodka with some… lemonade?” She makes a face and takes another sip. “Pink lemonade? I don’t know, it’s sweet, so I recommend it.”

Chaewon smiles, and Yerim nods her head gratefully before starting work on her drink. Olivia does her best to ignore the uncomfortable stuttering feeling in her chest at the sight of Chaewon smiling.

“While you guys drink sugar water,” she says, pulling out one of her beer cans and popping the tab open, “I’ll be over here.”

She raises the can before taking a swig and watches as Chaewon’s eyebrow quirks.

“Didn’t realize it was quite literally BYOB,” she teases. Olivia feels her blood pick up speed at the initiation of a sparring match.

“Only if you don’t wanna be accused of stealing from some rich asshole’s liquor cabinet.”

“No, it’s better to steal from the convenience store,” Yerim interjects, outing her. Olivia throws her a betrayed glance, but she simply shrugs and makes her way to the exit. “I told Jinsol and Jungeun I’d come find them so I’ll see you later, Rebel Without a Cause.”

Then she’s gone, and Olivia is left with Chaewon and her twinkling, laughing eyes.

“What? Surprised I’m friends with her?”

“Actually, I’m surprised you _have_ friends,” Chaewon returns, but her lips curl afterwards and if Olivia thought it was something to see her wonky smile trained at someone _else_, this is what heart attacks are made of.

“We’ve been friends since the womb, which I’m sure Yerim would have loved to share had we had the same parents,” Olivia explains.

Chaewon bites her lip. “Yeah, I know.”

“You know?”

“It’s not like we haven’t all gone to school together forever, Hyejoo.” Chaewon rolls her eyes and Olivia smiles, feeling a bit stupid and a lot genuine. The other girl is standing so close to her perch that she can see the freckles on Chaewon’s left eyelid.

“Hey, what I said earlier,” Chaewon says suddenly, hand briefly and lazily making contact with Olivia’s thigh. “I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

Olivia straightens at the subject matter, feeling frigid. “What did you mean then?” she asks rotely.

Round eyes look up at her from under Chaewon's lashes. Olivia can barely remember why she was so bothered earlier. “I-I’m not usually the one to approach people.”

“You’re used to them approaching you?” Olivia scrunches her face up distastefully, but her voice is too soft and too teasing.

“No, stupid,” Chaewon breathe-laughs. “Stuff like that makes me anxious, I guess. Unknown social stuff. I just meant I wouldn’t go out of my way to approach _anyone_, not you guys specifically.”

As she absorbs this new understanding of the girl in front of her, Olivia nods and studies her expressive face. The alcohol has lowered Chaewon’s guard so much that she can see every emotion plainly – from the bashfulness to the earnestness.

“Guess the friendship bracelets are back on,” she teases. It makes Chaewon glow with a smile again, and Olivia feels a hum in her chest. “I know a guy; I’ll let him know.”

Chaewon easily picks up where she’s left off. “Make sure mine’s pink.”

“I’m offended you think you even have to tell me,” Olivia says, mock-serious.

When their eyes lock, Chaewon seems to forget whatever else she might’ve said in favor of holding Olivia’s gaze. Olivia doesn’t know if she wants to shrink away or rise to the challenge, and she’s still in the process of deciding what the hell she should do next when the door swings open.

“Chaewonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!” Sooyoung slurs, her usually impeccable dancer’s posture hunched by inebriation. “Where have you beeeeeeeen, jail bird?”

Whatever strange current ran between them for a moment is entirely decimated by Chaewon scrambling over to her friend.

“Sorry, got a little caught up,” she explains, clearly in a hurry to rush Sooyoung away.

Just before the door can swing closed behind them, Olivia hears Sooyoung ask a devastatingly innocuous question: “What were you doing talking to Olivia?”

It’s not the words, really, but the way her voice sounds so incredulous. Like the idea of Chaewon wanting to spend any more time with Olivia than absolutely necessary is preposterous.

It suddenly doesn’t matter what Chaewon said, or that she’d spoken to Olivia of her own volition. It doesn’t even matter that they might’ve had a brief moment back there. Sooyoung’s words are a stark reminder that Olivia doesn’t belong in Chaewon’s world, that she never will, and that Chaewon isn’t about to step outside of it or invite her in, anyway.

She takes a long swig of her beer to wash out the bitter taste in her mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked it!!! if you did, please leave kudos/comments. it keeps me goin'.


	3. week two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE, BITCH! BET YOU THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME!
> 
> anyways life b wild but have an update that i'm actually really proud of hehe
> 
> also reminder/disclaimer that this is all fiction and takes place in the 80s and warning tags are being added as we go along. additionally, this is officially a Hard T work because of language and themes.

_= week two =_

Chaewon likes to arrive at least five minutes early to any kind of event, and detention is no exception. Anything to avoid the skin-crawling sensation of having all eyes trained on her, everyone perfectly aware that she’s late. It helps her punctuality that she has a car — a nice little red Ferrari Testarossa that her dad bought her after he forgot her sixteenth birthday.

She arrives to her second detention to find the library already occupied, Heejin having somehow beat her to the punch. Said girl is sitting at their desk, fiddling with her thumbs and humming a showtune under her breath.

“What did I say? Party was super fun, right?” she opens, practiced smirk painted on her lips. Heejin looks up just as she’s sitting down.

“Yeah, yeah, it was fun.” She rolls her eyes, but Chaewon doesn’t miss her mouth twitching upwards.

“In case you were wondering, I survived you ditching me for the barker just fine,” she continues. Really, she can’t help the way her eyebrows rise conspiratorially. Hyunjin’s arrival had had a bit of a ripple effect, what with Eric trying to kick her out before being coerced into getting his ass handed to him in beer pong. A crowd gravitated naturally, and before Chaewon knew it she’d been ditched for the night so Heejin could repeatedly and loudly announce that she knew Hyunjin before any of the rest of them.

Heejin’s gaze flickers away as her cheeks grow pink. “She’s cool, or whatever.”

Chaewon hums, tucking that information away for later consideration, and then the door swings open to reveal Hyunjin in all her baggy-clothed glory.

“Speak of the devil,” she says lowly, and Heejin nudges her foot under the table with a warning glare. Hyunjin, for her part, makes a beeline for the last row of desks and promptly collapses into her chair.

“Anyways, I _did_ miss curfew and receive an hour-long lecture about keeping my priorities straight at midnight,” Heejin says, apparently having decided to change the subject, and Chaewon’s eyebrows rise impossibly higher on her forehead.

“Really? My parentals didn’t even know I was out, since they were out too,” she shrugs.

Heejin gives her a peculiar look, but then Principal Jeong enters with Haseul at his heels and they all go quiet as they wait for Hyejoo.

Hyejoo, who had been surprisingly and confusingly friendly at the party, and had accepted Chaewon’s explanation with a nod and zero snark. Who seemed oddly content to spend time with Chaewon specifically. Who had a deceivingly cute smile, really, if Chaewon thought about it. Not that she _would_, of course (not that she _did,_ for a weighted second). That wasn’t her. Kissing other girls at parties during brief lapses of inebriated judgment was more Sooyoung’s thing.

Hyejoo enters at 8:00 am on the dot, and Chaewon can tell by the principal’s slow blink that he wasn’t really expecting it. She doesn’t have much time to ruminate on it, though, because the next second her gaze is snagging on Hyejoo and Hyejoo is smirking at her in that infuriatingly smug way of hers, so different from her actual smile.

Chaewon flips her hair over her shoulder and sniffs, just to see that smirk turn into a chuckle.

-

Principal Jeong gives his usual spiel about a four-hour-long detention where they are forbidden from doing anything – even though he apparently only ever checks on them a couple of times – minus the part where he gets after Hyejoo for something or other. When he leaves the room, the door that is still missing its pin slams shut unceremoniously.

Hyejoo is already drumming at her desk – Chaewon can hear it.

“We should go on an adventure today,” she says to no one in particular. Chaewon turns in her seat so Hyejoo can see her quirked eyebrow.

“You want to _leave_ the library?”

Hyejoo merely shrugs. “Why not? As long as we’re not gone long, we won’t get caught. Probably.”

“This sounds like a setup for you to rope us all into more detention with you,” Chaewon says, eyes narrowed. Hyejoo lets out an exasperated sigh.

“You say that like I actually crave companionship,” she returns. “I don’t.”

It’s so obviously a lie – and an absurd one, at that. Everyone craves companionship. Even antisocial criminals.

“You should work on your lying face,” Chaewon smarts. “Your tell is in your eyebrows and the lack of eye contact.”

Hyejoo’s face flushes and she doesn’t immediately have a comeback.

_Huh_.

“Hyunjin,” she says, eyes still on Chaewon until the girl meows in acknowledgment. Her gaze swivels calculatingly. “Are _you_ up for an adventure?”

Hyunjin kind of twitches in her seat. “Always.”

Hyejoo nods, turning to Haseul. “Birdbrain?”

There’s a long-suffering sigh before Haseul responds, “I’ll participate if you actually start calling me by my name.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Hyejoo says airily, but it’s clear she’s kind of impressed. “I am willing to meet your terms.” Then she turns back to Chaewon, and a bit towards Heejin. “Populars?”

“What do you even want to do?” Heejin asks while worrying her lip. Hyejoo shrugs, always so damnably casual about everything.

“Retrieve something from my locker. Maybe screw around in the gym for a bit.” Her gaze trains back on Chaewon, and it occurs to her that Hyejoo is always kind of like this: zeroed in on her, or something. “Don’t leave us all by our lonesome, craving the princess' companionship.”

This time, it’s Chaewon’s cheeks that heat a bit.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” she says, just to distract from it.

-

The plan is to wait until Principal Jeong completes his first check-in before making a break for it, just because Hyejoo apparently has the detention schedule memorized and feels confident he won’t return soon after. Once that has been established, Hyejoo makes it through about ten minutes of silence before she’s hopping out of her chair and disappearing into the bookstacks.

It takes another two minutes for Chaewon to realize — from some rather unsubtle glances and a bottom lip gnawed raw — that Heejin is desperate to converse with Hyunjin, so she makes the executive decision to wander after Hyejoo and throws a pointed glance towards Haseul. Nerd that she is, she misses it in favor of whatever homework she has her nose buried in.

And that’s how Chaewon finds Hyejoo: Rifling through books at random, periodically picking one to doodle something in, and then placing them back in the wrong order or with the spine facing inwards.

Chaewon crosses her arms and leans against the shelf, silently judging Hyejoo as she works.

“Flattered as I am that you find me so fascinating, did you want to say anything, or did you just want to work yourself up?” Hyejoo says casually, not bothering to glance her way.

Chaewon scoffs. “I was just lost in vexation that you’d dedicate all of your Saturdays to detention for the sake of drawing dicks in _Moby Dick_.”

The corner of Hyejoo’s mouth ticks up before she turns toward Chaewon, much closer than where she began on the aisle.

“Why? Got a vested interest in how I spend my Saturdays?” she challenges. Maybe it’s because it’s the second boldly crude thing she’s said, or maybe it’s because she’s just about as close as she was that night of the party, but something about it all makes Chaewon’s brain go a little haywire.

“And if I did?”

She’s halfway through the sentence before she has the cognizance to blush.

It should probably repulse her, the way Hyejoo goes her own shade of pink before stepping a little closer and breathing a little more shallowly, but it doesn’t. In fact, she’s curious more than anything else — curious about this affect she has on her, and curious about Son Hyejoo, the person, who is apparently so much more than Chaewon had given her credit for.

“Got something you wanna admit, princess?”

It’s said too delicately. Challenging without being threatening, and colored in barely detectable _want_.

Chaewon is not the girl that kisses other girls during brief lapses of judgment.

“Of course not,” she breathes, and then steels herself with haughtiness. “I was just messing with you, obviously. I have better things to do with my Saturdays.”

Hyejoo goes red in a less-pleasing way, and then someone is tapping on the wooden beam behind Chaewon and Hyejoo is turning away completely.

“Woah, Hyejoo, something embarrassing happen?” It’s Hyunjin’s voice. “You look red as a tomato.”

“Whatever,” Hyejoo grumbles, knocking a book or two off the shelf before storming away.

Something leaden sinks Chaewon’s stomach, but she offers Hyunjin a brief, faked smile anyway.

“What’s the sitch? Where’s Heejin?”

For some reason, Hyunjin’s eyes dart around like a nervous animal.

“I was wondering… well, I figure you probably have, y’know, beauty stuff? Makeup and gunk?”

Chaewon has absolutely no idea where this is going. “Yeah?” she prompts.

“Well, could you… give me a makeover? Not that I care about any of that stuff. Just an idea. To kill time. Until we hit up our lockers.” Hyunjin is too nervous not to have ulterior motives, but it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Just because Chaewon could never play for that team doesn’t mean she cares if others do — her Aunt Carol had a “roommate” that her parents wouldn’t invite to dinner, but her parents were rarely around for dinner, anyway.

Besides, she’s never going to stand in the way of someone achieving superficial self-improvement.

“Sure,” she says, and then scans Hyunjin’s attire with a grimace. “I have some extra clothes in my locker, too, whenever we go.”

-

Everything else aside, Chaewon has to admit: Hyunjin is super beautiful. But that is, at least in part, due to the fact that Chaewon is an expert makeup artist.

“I mean, the pink eye shadow? Touch of genius,” she says, flashing a grin at Hyunjin before gently blowing some excess particles away.

Hyunjin, for her part, twitches like a partially drowned cat. One eye is squinted awkwardly. “You’re just patting yourself on the back,” she deadpans.

Chaewon shrugs. “Yeah, but only because I made you look so good. Enhanced your natural prettiness, I promise.”

To prove her point, she holds up her compact mirror for Hyunjin’s self-evaluation. Gone is the bare-faced, dour Hyunjin, and in her place is a beautiful girl fit to be on the cover of Vogue. It takes a stunned moment, Hyunjin orbiting every angle of her face with a blank expression, but it culminates in Hyunjin’s appreciative guffaw.

“I guess I am pretty,” she says quietly. Chaewon nods.

“Trust me when I say I wouldn’t lie to you,” she assures. Then she remembers what is supposed to be the highlight of the look. “Oh, wait, one more thing before you show everyone!”

And before Hyunjin can pop out of her chair in the corner of the loft of the library, Chaewon plops a black beret on her head and adjusts the fit until it looks effortlessly casual.

“Choice!” Chaewon exclaims. “You look, like, almost as chic as me.” She doesn’t add the part about how it’ll be even better when Hyunjin has the outfit on to match instead of her current disaster.

Hyunjin rolls her eyes but can’t prevent the megawatt smile that has stretched her lips from ear to ear.

“Go show everyone!” Chaewon encourages, and Hyunjin scurries away.

By the time Chaewon catches up, Hyunjin’s steps have faltered at the top of the stairs. Curious, Chaewon peeks over the railing and spots a slack-jawed Heejin slowly stumbling towards the base.

The two of them gravitate like magnets, Hyunjin practically floating down the stairs even as she fidgets with tucking her hair behind her ears. There’s a fondness in Heejin’s eyes, similar to the night of the party but stark in its clarity and intensity now that the haziness of alcohol is gone.

Chaewon surprises herself with the swell of pride she feels, the warmth that spreads from her chest to the tips of her toes. She did this — helped two people at once, unwittingly, just by making someone feel a little more confident about themselves. It’s a rush of adrenaline and buoyancy she never could’ve anticipated.

Heejin is whispering something lowly to Hyunjin, the two of them meeting in the middle and donning what Chaewon can only assume are matching starstruck gazes. Out of the corner of her eye, Chaewon spots Hyejoo emerging from the shadows and feels ice run down her spine when Hyejoo grimaces.

“What’s this?” she calls, and the loudness of her voice is like a pinprick to a balloon.

Hyunjin looks down timidly. “Chaewon gave me a makeover.”

Hyejoo’s gaze burns as they make eye contact. “_You_ did this?” she asks — accuses.

“Who else?” Chaewon returns with a shrug. The intention is to come off boastful, maybe even a bit condescending, but her voice wavers.

Hyejoo scoffs.

“Of course, the princess took it upon herself to fix up one of us lowlifes. That’s all you care about, huh? Appearances and superficial shit. Now you’ve gone and infected Hyunjin with it.”

There’s a venom to her words that Chaewon’s never heard before. Hyejoo is usually a lot of bark and very little bite; this Hyejoo is desperate to sink her teeth in.

“For the record, _jerk_, she asked me to,” Chaewon says crossly.

“Oh, I’m a jerk now?” Hyejoo spits. “Did I hurt your feelings? Mommy and Daddy haven’t been around enough to teach you that materialism is a symptom of an empty head?”

It stings, the possibility that Hyejoo’s cataloged every new fact she’s learned about Chaewon just to throw it all back in her face.

“I’m not an idiot just because I like pretty things!”

“No, you’re an idiot because you _only_ like pretty things!”

Rage and humiliation burn in Chaewon’s tear ducts, and she feels herself clenching her fists as she stomps a bit closer. “What’s your damage, Hyejoo? Can’t stand to see other people happy because you’re so damn miserable? Maybe I don’t think you’re a loser because you live next to the train tracks and hang out at the 7-Eleven, maybe I think you’re a loser because you try to tear down everyone around you just so they’ll be as fucked up and sad as you are.”

It’s a broken dam, resentment rushing out of her uncontrollably because this was a special moment, a rare slice of genuine self-pride and benevolence, and Hyejoo just had to stomp over and ruin it all. By the end, Chaewon is heaving with breaths and Hyejoo suddenly looks _shattered_.

Chaewon only gets a glimpse of it in the glimmer of a tear at the corner of her eye before Hyejoo is shuttering up completely, face stony and blank and so, so angry.

“My name is Olivia Hye,” she asserts, and then walks away.

This time, when silence falls, static lingers in Chaewon’s ears.

-

It stays that way. Principal Jeong comes to check on them soon after and seems almost surprised at the stillness, Hyejoo sulking under the statue of the school’s founder and everyone else sitting primly in their chairs. She’d relocated a couple of minutes before he arrived, her detention instincts presumably guiding her. Chaewon feels almost supernaturally aware of every last shuffle of her feet.

He’s been gone for five minutes now and yet…

“Um, were we still gonna head for the lockers, or?” Haseul, bless her outsider heart, breaks the standstill.

Hyejoo doesn’t say a word before bum-rushing the library doors. When no one follows out of fearful hesitation, she pokes her head back in and looks at Haseul.

“Well, Haseul?” she prompts. The girl scurries out of her chair, Hyunjin trailing soon after and Heejin throwing Chaewon a bewildered look before following suit.

Hyejoo didn’t look at Chaewon, of course – not even once.

-

Where Chaewon would usually find herself a nervous ball of energy at the prospect of being caught sneaking out of detention, instead there is only the distraction of a thick lump in her throat. The group follows Hyejoo silently, bobbing and weaving through hallways and narrowly evading an oblivious Principal Jeong on his way to the little boys’ room. Soon enough, they spread out to their individual lockers.

Chaewon’s, of course, is only a couple rows down from Hyejoo’s. She tries not to watch her out of the corner of her eye, tries to focus on the mechanical process of opening her locker and retrieving her outfit for Hyunjin, but it’s like every action Hyejoo takes is suddenly an extension of her. Hyejoo bops her locker to spring it open and Chaewon flinches; Hyejoo rustles around inside and Chaewon shakes.

It is only when Hyejoo retrieves something bundled in a little brown paper bag that Chaewon forces her gaze to flit away. The moment it lands on the contents of her locker, she realizes something is… new. Atop her usual gaggle of clothes, books, makeup, and accessories lies a little wad of cash, rubber band wrapped tightly around it and a sticky note on top.

_Vending machine fund_, it says plainly. The script is scrawled, hurried. Chaewon would know the penmanship anywhere.

She looks to Hyejoo again, who is pointedly looking everywhere else, _again_. Swallows that lump in her throat and feels an ache settle in her chest.

-

It’s impossible to say whether Hyejoo could have predicted this, really. They’re all just sort of ambling towards the gym (Heejin and Hyunjin with snacks from their lockers in hand) when Principal Jeong happens to turn a corner right in front of them. Hyejoo, at the front of the pack, is the first person he sees.

“Hey!” he yells. Hyejoo ushers them back frantically, leading them down a corridor or two with Principal Jeong’s pursuing footsteps thundering behind them.

“Shit shit shit,” she starts chanting. And then she grabs Haseul by the shirt collar, lightning fast, and stuffs her little brown bag down Haseul’s bra. “Keep this safe for me, will ya?”

Haseul is too stunned to decline. Hyejoo is halfway back towards Principal Jeong when Chaewon realizes what she’s doing — that she’s sacrificing herself.

“Hye- Olivia!” she cries, inexplicably desperate.

Hyejoo darts faster, slamming her fists into lockers boisterously as she goes. “Run back, idiots!”

And so they do.

-

The four escapees sit, straight-backed and fidgety, in their library seats. It feels like every tick of the clock is another hour, another dart of sweat down each of their foreheads.

Finally, Principal Jeong enters.

“Son Hyejoo has been placed in solitary confinement for the remainder of this detention session,” he announces. It would sound matter-of-fact if not for the way he grits his teeth between words. “She has volunteered to absorb all consequences as we’re all aware this… escapade was led by her.”

He starts to leave, and then pauses with his hand on the door. “Take this as a warning, and don’t disobey the rules again.”

The door slams shut behind him. Chaewon feels dreadful, her gut twisting with worry and guilt.

“What do you guys think solitary confinement even means?” she asks. “Like… where is she?”

Haseul shrugs. “I’d say that doesn’t exactly sound legal, but it doesn’t exactly sound _ill_egal, either.” Then, quietly, “This place is pretty much a prison anyways.”

Simultaneously, the rest of them nod their heads in agreement.

There is almost a mournful quality to the way they spend the rest of the detention in silence, so different from the frenetic tension of earlier.

-

Son Hyejoo isn’t at school on Monday. Neither is she on Tuesday. Chaewon feels the absence like a gaping chasm, one that stretches from the hallway with their lockers to the seat behind her in homeroom and even into the cafeteria, where Chaewon realizes the ever-persistent weight of someone’s gaze no longer pricks the hairs on the back of her neck.

On Wednesday, Chaewon finds Hyejoo already sitting at her desk in homeroom before the bell has chimed. She doesn’t look up when Chaewon sits in front of her, doesn’t prop up her boots and trap Chaewon’s hair or kick at Chaewon’s seat or even say something snarky and insulting. Instead, she stares at her gloved fingers and fiddles with them for the entirety of class.

Chaewon only notices because… well, because she keeps glancing back.

-

On Thursday, Chaewon excuses herself from lunch to head to the bathroom. Both stalls in the smaller facility are occupied by gossiping cheerleaders, so Chaewon stops in her tracks and waits at the mouth of the room… approximately three feet behind Hyejoo, who is furiously scrubbing at her hands in the sink.

The water looks pink as it washes down the drain, and Chaewon furrows her brow. Did Hyejoo advance to physical violence? Are her knuckles cracked from punching someone now, of all things?

The intensity of her stare catches Hyejoo’s attention, and the moment she glances up, their eyes lock in the mirror. Chaewon offers a tentative tilt of her mouth. Hyejoo hesitates before returning to her task, but Chaewon refuses to look away.

The stall occupants continue their idle chatter.

Chaewon counts her breaths, hoping Hyejoo will look up again and see the concern so plainly etched in her eyes.

“Oh my God, Becky, did you know that Olivia Hye’s dad is a drunk? My dad had to keep him in jail overnight so he’d stop harassing the bartender at some dive this weekend,” they overhear. Hyejoo’s shoulders go rigid.

“What, really?” the other occupant gasps, part scandalization and part judgmental delight. “I guess it makes sense, though. God, imagine your life sucking that bad. First God makes you a lesbo and then He gives you an alcy dad.”

They cackle, and Hyejoo storms out with pale pink droplets trailing down her fingertips.

Chaewon tries to follow her out, but by the time she gets to the hallway, there’s no sign of the other girl.

-

Later that day, she’s relegated to waiting for Heejin after school while sitting on the surface of a picnic table with her feet resting on the bench. She can see Heejin in the distance, hear her terrified squeals as she ducks and dodges a gaggle of pigeons. Chaewon would help her, honestly, but Hyunjin has taken it upon herself to play the knight with deranged bird calls so here Chaewon sits, watching them flirt, having all the time in the world to contemplate.

And by contemplate, she means worry about Son Hyejoo and the fact that Son Hyejoo won’t talk to her or look at her for more than three seconds and now Son Hyejoo’s father is apparently a drunk that probably gave her whatever incendiary complex she has that Chaewon just had to go and let rile her up.

She feels a presence join her side, suddenly, and she almost gets excited until she realizes it’s just the little bun-headed girl Hyejoo likes to bully on the daily. Then she does a double take, because oh my God, why is bunhead here?

“Something’s up with Olivia Hye,” the girl announces unprompted. Chaewon says unprompted, because she beats her to the punch of snidely questioning why she chose this bench.

“Um, yeah, lots of stuff is up with her,” she returns suspiciously.

The girl looks her dead in the eye. “Yeojin. That’s my name. And I know something _else_ is up with her, because she’s been slamming me into lockers hard enough this week that it actually kind of hurts. And she punched one when she thought no one was looking.”

That explains the blood, then. Chaewon’s face scrunches. “Wait, why are you telling me about this? Shouldn’t you talk to Yerim or something?”

“I’m talking to you.” Yeojin rolls her eyes. “Do you know if something happened?”

Chaewon’s stomach churns guiltily. She bites her lip before returning, “Doesn’t she bully you? Why are you worried about her?”

“Olivia Hye is full of shit,” Yeojin says plainly. “Total poser. Empty threats. I let her steal my lunch money because the first week she started doing it, my mom started sending me with extra, and I don’t know if she’d be eating lunch without it.”

Shock and confusion snap Chaewon’s gaze to Yeojin; her jaw falls a bit open. Yeojin simply shrugs. “Call it charity.”

Chaewon swallows then. Quietly, she admits, “I think it might have something to do with me. Her being upset.”

Yeojin nods sagely.

“Fix it,” she says, standing to leave. “For my shoulders… and for Haseul. I think she wants to be friends with you both, or something lame.”

Chaewon doesn’t register Yeojin’s exit because her thoughts begin to whir, blood rushing in her ears. It’s overwhelming, all this new information brewing like a storm in her mind and her heart, and there’s only one thing she knows for sure: she needs to talk to Hyejoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... i promise to update sooner than last time so that you are not all left hanging dfingldskjf
> 
> this chapter is partly dedicated to odalis because it was supposed to be her birthday present approximately 3.5 months ago and partly dedicated to shovel for being the bestest little writer buddy
> 
> pls leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed i consume them like air


	4. week three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EYYYYYYYY we're back! and it's sooner than 7 months! honestly, i'm really proud of this chapter. there is one moment in here that is the entire reason i wanted to write this in the first place, and i hope i did it justice.
> 
> please take note of the warning tags i've added, and enjoy!

_= week three =_

For the first time in nearly three years of constant weekend detentions, Olivia arrives early. It’s both a conscious decision and a reluctant one — she’d gasped into wakefulness on the heels of a nightmare, its suffocating clutches retreating just as she’d been confronted with a new one: her dad was already awake (or maybe he’d never properly passed out on the couch like she’d thought), and he was in the mood to rant and rave about her abundance of failures.

She’d escaped with this excuse, at least. Confronted with the looming columns of Shermer High School’s main entrance, however, Olivia can’t help but long for detention to be over quickly.

Chaewon’s already there when she steps foot in the library. It’s awkward, the way the door slams shut behind Olivia and Chaewon’s shoulders jump as her wide eyes bore into Olivia’s face. She doesn’t know what she’d find if she bothered to look back. There’d been a single moment this week, in the girls’ bathroom, where Olivia simply couldn’t manage to avoid Chaewon’s gaze. It had been… confusing. At first, she’d thought she’d seen concern, maybe even a bit of desperation, but then Chaewon had remained silent and those awful girls had run their mouths about Olivia’s train wreck of a life, and, in the end, she figures it was probably just some sort of pity.

The idea of Chaewon pitying her makes Olivia feel sick, as if her stomach’s been turned inside out. So, she’d rather not look at her.

Chaewon is persistent, though. She swivels around in her seat as Olivia takes her own in her usual place, even opens her mouth like she’s going to launch into a sales pitch except then Heejin barges in like she ran straight from her house on Cherry Street and Olivia knows from outrunning cops that that’s a hell of a trek.

Their attentions snap to the girl gasping and wiping at the sweat on her forehead with her sleeve.

“What?” she asks when she realizes they’re staring.

“Dramatic much?” Chaewon smarts. Olivia’s lips twitch against her better judgment, and she’s glad Chaewon can’t see.

Heejin shrugs as she makes her way to her seat. “I thought I was gonna be late!”

“It’s just detention, not an audition, Demi Moore,” Olivia throws out with a chuckle.

Chaewon turns toward her again, just in time for Haseul and Hyunjin to stumble in with Principal Jeong on their heels.

Olivia only looks back once Chaewon’s safely facing forward, but even so, it’s obvious that the girl’s deflated. Her shoulders are even slumped; Olivia can only imagine the pout.

She’s not going to, though. What Chaewon is feeling now is probably only a fraction of what Olivia had felt when Chaewon had called her a sad, fucked up loser. She can squirm in it and Olivia will just sit here, aloof as can be… and feeling dreadful and taking no joy in it all the same.

-

It doesn’t last long. As soon as Principal Jeong is done with his spiel, Chaewon is right back to twisting toward Olivia.

“Hyej- Olivia,” she starts, voice_ so_ tiny. Olivia’s gaze flits around until she finally settles on the crease between Chaewon’s brows. “Can I talk to you? Please?”

She places her hand on Olivia’s wrist, and Olivia honest-to-God doesn’t know if that alone convinces her but she definitely doesn’t have the capacity to come up with a single damn excuse _now,_ so she simply nods dumbly and finally braves a glance at Chaewon’s whole, round face. Her eyes are practically black, pupils blown wide as she pleads.

Olivia raises her eyebrows expectantly.

“Alone?” Chaewon asks. Olivia lets out a long sigh, hitched slightly by her sudden nerves, and nods again as she follows Chaewon into the bookstacks.

Chaewon keeps her hand hovering near her wrist, index finger hooking onto the sleeve of Olivia’s leather jacket as she tugs her into a more secluded corner of the library. There’s an involuntary shudder down Olivia’s spine at the implications of the action, the way it could be interpreted out of context.

“So, um…” Chaewon chews her lip and watches Olivia from under her lashes. Her eyelids pinch closed once, briefly, before she speaks again. “I shouldn’t have said what I said to you last week. It was… unnecessary and mean and… I’m sorry.”

She plays with her fingers as she speaks, twisting them around in the wake of her apology as well. The funny thing is that Olivia’s not sure if she’s ever received an apology from anyone other than Yerim, and in her view Yerim had never actually done anything to her that would warrant one. Which makes this, somehow, her first true apology. There’s sincerity evident in the shine of Chaewon’s eyes and it warms Olivia’s chest.

She’s about to accept, ready to move on and have a vastly improved day, when Chaewon continues.

“Olivia, this past week…” She flounders for words. Settles on a quiet, “I didn’t like it.”

Though she feels her brow furrow, curious if Chaewon means it in the same way Olivia certainly felt it, she can’t help but admit, “I didn’t like it either.”

The look on Chaewon’s face sharpens with resolve.

“You know, it made me realize how much attention you usually pay me. More than anyone else in my life does, even my parents, and I… it means something to me,” she says. Then, glibly, “Even when it’s not always the kind of attention I want.”

Olivia can’t help but crack a genuine smile at that – both the statement and the faux-cross look on Chaewon’s face. Now that she’s allowing herself to observe the other girl again, she finds that she’s falling back into the habit of cataloging all the facial expressions she makes, endlessly fascinated by every last one of them.

“I should... probably apologize too,” Olivia says with a wince. As deeply as Chaewon’s words had cut, they weren’t without provocation. Olivia had inflicted plenty barbs of her own.

Chaewon raises one eyebrow when Olivia doesn’t elaborate. “Continue,” she prompts, and it tugs a smirk onto Olivia’s lips.

“That was it.”

With a scoff, Chaewon shoves at her bicep. It’s harmless and noodle-armed, and yet it’s right where Olivia had acquired a particularly gnarly bruise this morning. She can’t hide her resultant grimace or the way she flinches back, and Chaewon’s good humor is immediately clouded with concern.

“Wh-“

“It’s just a bruise,” Olivia grunts hastily. Chaewon’s face only crumples in on itself further, so Olivia barrels forward before she can push the issue. “Seriously, princess, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Just drop it,” she says firmly. Though Chaewon seems hesitant, she acquiesces with a nod of her head. Olivia returns her attention to the matter at hand. “For the record, I shouldn’t have said the things I said either. It was misplaced frustration and… y’know, Hyunjin is cool just the way she is, right? I didn’t like the idea that she’d bought into thinking she wasn’t, or that all that materialistic crap means anything.”

“It’s okay to like it though, you know,” Chaewon says quietly. “It’s nice to feel pretty, and it doesn’t have anything to do with your intelligence.”

Olivia’s mouth goes a bit dry with guilt.

“You’re not stupid,” she blurts. “I’ve never really thought that.”

Chaewon smiles up at her then, soft and sweet and with the dustings of a light blush all along her cheekbones. Olivia resists the urge to do something stupid herself, like pulling her into her arms or telling her she’s _so_ pretty, all of the time.

-

Boredom fuels the group to migrate to the same spot they’d played truth or dare in two weeks prior, heads tilted back as they all brainstorm what they’d like to do for the day. Well, Olivia assumes that’s what everyone else is doing. Mostly she’s just glad she’s not still relegated to a locked supply closet in the name of “solitary confinement.”

“Oh!” Chaewon suddenly jumps, and everyone’s gazes snap to her. “Why don’t we go around the circle and say how we ended up here?”

Olivia shrugs amiably as Hyunjin nods. Though Heejin and Haseul are notably silent, Chaewon clasps her hands together with a clap. “Great! I’ll start,” she grins. “Ditched school to go shopping and get a mani-pedi with Sooyoung. I don’t know how the principal found out, but it probably has something to do with the amount of times Sooyoung said “like” on the phone while she was pretending to be my mom.”

She finishes with a haughty little eye roll and Olivia snickers. It catches Chaewon’s attention, who motions for Olivia to go next.

“You guys already know why I’m here,” she says. “Cheated on a test. It was a big one, so, y’know… whatever, not that interesting.”

Chaewon quirks an eyebrow. “Still not gonna tell us why you bothered to cheat?”

“Is possible failure of the class not a good enough reason?” Olivia deflects. Chaewon’s eyes narrow, too perceptive for her own good.

“My turn!” Hyunjin erupts with a smirk. “Both of yours are boring — get ready for something actually interesting.”

Olivia would have to be oblivious not to spot the way Heejin perks up at the sound of Hyunjin’s voice.

“You guys know the art teacher, Miss Yubin? Well, it all started when she offered to help me with my pottery project…”

Hyunjin then launches into a ten-minute retelling of her torrid affair with Miss Yubin, who is apparently a kinky raging lesbian, highlights including nude oil painting, an alpaca, and Principal Jeong discovering them in the buff with a spikey dog collar and leash. By the end, Chaewon’s jaw is on the floor and even Olivia finds herself a bit scandalized by the whole thing.

“Wait wait wait,” Heejin says, face tomato red and twisted in perturbation. “Miss Yubin practically took advantage of you and _you’re_ getting punished in detention?”

Hyunjin only shrugs. “Well, technically I’m here because of the grade markup… and the school sex.”

Heejin’s face grows stormier as she says, “Right, well, guess it’s my turn now.”

Olivia stretches her legs out in preparation for another long tale. Chaewon is close and her shoulder looks inviting enough to rest on, but as soon as Olivia has the thought, she’s shirking it. That would be… weird, and unprecedented, and Chaewon’s tiny, bony little shoulder would probably collapse under the weight of Olivia’s head anyway.

Heejin still hasn’t continued, choosing instead to chew on the inside of her cheek as she evidently struggles to articulate herself. Finally, she starts, “To be honest, I did something kind of stupid. Really stupid. And… and _mean_.”

She spits the last word out like she’s disgusted with herself. Olivia immediately feels the room tense.

“You guys know Jung Elly?” Olivia had heard of her, and now she’s pretty sure she knows where this is going. Heejin catches on to her knowing look and nods, guilt clouding her eyes. “Yeah, well, she joined theater this year. The other girls… they convinced me that hazing was a rite of passage, okay? They hazed me when I joined freshman year too, only that was just a fake kidnapping and this…”

Heejin pauses, swallowing loudly. “We… I… put Nair in her conditioner. She’s… she’s _bald_ and they don’t even know if it’ll all grow back right.” Her face crumples with her last few words, tears leaking out of her scrunched closed eyelids. Olivia thinks of little Jung Elly with her bald head and her sad eyes and she’s not even sure what to say or how to comfort the person who did that to her, but the worry flies out the window when Heejin buries her face in Hyunjin’s sweater. Hyunjin is shocked frozen for a moment before returning the embrace and patting her back.

With a muffled little sob, Heejin prompts, “Haseulpleasestarttalkingnow.”

When Olivia looks to Haseul, though, her face is bone white.

“Well, uh… mine isn’t exactly going to lift the mood…” she says, voice small. Olivia can see her picking at her nails in her lap.

“That’s okay,” Chaewon says in all seriousness. “You listened to ours, now we’ll listen to yours.”

It’s encouraging enough to earn a nod from Haseul, whose eyes already look a little glassy.

“Um… I didn’t choose an elective for myself at the end of last year, y’know, so I got randomly sorted into shop class this semester. And… and I’m really, _really_ bad at it.” She looks around at them all, her captive audience. Even Heejin has stopped sniffling. “I’ve never… been bad at a class before.” Olivia has half a mind to make a crack about how that’s all she’s ever been, but now isn’t the time.

“My parents claim they understand, of course, but they don’t know how to help me with it. They’re both accountants. And every time they’ve offered encouragement, it’s always with this underlying edge of… expectation. “You’ll get it, sweetie, you always do.” “Not about to let your 4.0 drop, are you, kiddo?” “It’s just some blocks of wood, Seulie. Don’t let them keep you from your dream university.”” Her voice wavers as she imitates her parents, crackling wetly between phrases. “I don’t even know what they’d do if I really ended the semester with an F. It’s been all I can think about for months and-and it just feels like so much _pressure_, building and building all of the time until I can’t even _breathe_ anymore!”

Haseul pauses, heaving chest gradually settling as she stares at her hands.

“I, uh—brought a gun to school. They found it in my locker.”

When she looks up, she must see the way they’re all stunned. Hurriedly, she adds, “Not for anyone else, I swear! Just for… just for me.”

Her last three words are so small they’re barely audible.

Without warning, Chaewon gets up and pulls Haseul into a tight hug. The girl had told her story so bravely, completely devoid of tears, and yet the moment Chaewon touches her she lets out a sob.

There’s a painful twisting sensation in Olivia’s chest. She hates that she’s felt exactly the same and yet she can’t bring herself to say it, can’t bring herself to figure out any course of action at all, but then Chaewon finds her gaze over Haseul’s head and before she knows it, she’s joining in, wrapping the both of them up in her arms to the best of her ability. It’s a little awkward and incredibly foreign to her, but Heejin and Hyunjin join in shortly afterwards and Olivia can admit it’s kind of nice or whatever. Also, Chaewon smells like lavender.

Olivia waits a good minute before she feels like she’s going to suffocate.

“Okay, enough of this,” she says, already attempting to extricate herself. “Haseul, do you still have the baggie I gave you last week?”

At Haseul’s nod, she can’t help but grin.

“Let’s get _stoned_, weepy motherfuckers!”

-

It takes a lot more convincing and at least three promises that she knows what she’s doing and her stash isn’t laced with heroin before they’re back in their circle, passing around Olivia’s hastily rolled joint. Heejin and Haseul both cough up a lung the moment they inhale, rather predictably, but they must get something out of it because Heejin’s eyes go wide and empty and Haseul starts giggling at every sound. It’s nice to see her smiling in the wake of it all.

When it’s Chaewon’s turn, she refuses with a wave of her hand and the scrunch of her nose.

“I’m good.”

Olivia’s gaze narrows despite the pleasant fuzziness gradually clouding her mind.

“How goody-two-shoes of you, princess,” she taunts. Chaewon rolls her eyes in return.

“_Someone_ should stay sober in case the principal tries to talk to us,” she rationalizes.

Olivia shakes her head, retrieving the joint from Haseul’s hand. “He won’t,” she says shortly. Then she takes another hit and beckons Chaewon closer with the crook of her finger. Chaewon only stares, expression caught between cross and bewildered.

“What, weirdo?”

Olivia blows out her smoke before speaking. “I’m gonna shotgun it to you. You know, because you’re too scared to try it yourself.” She winks cockily afterwards, and it occurs to her that she’s very, very high.

Chaewon’s entire face floods pink. “You’re gonna-“

“Blow it into your mouth, yes,” Olivia returns. The idea wasn’t premeditated but now that Olivia has it, her heart is thumping wildly in her chest and she really, really hopes she isn’t pushing Chaewon too far.

The girl in question furrows her brows for a moment of thought, and Olivia almost takes it back just to save face. Then, Chaewon nods and leans closer and Olivia’s brain short circuits.

“Right,” she mumbles as she snaps back to attention, nearly fumbling the joint as she lifts it to her mouth. She takes one long inhale before grasping Chaewon’s chin with her free hand, tilting her head just right and leaning in until she can count the other girl’s eyelashes individually. Which she probably would, as high as she is, if there weren’t more pressing matters at hand.

Just as tendrils of smoke begin to escape from Olivia’s mouth and into Chaewon’s, Chaewon closes her eyes. Olivia is transfixed. The slope of her nose, the slack in her jaw, the way she’s trusting Olivia wholeheartedly in this moment… it all makes Olivia feel lightheaded in a way different from the weed.

She ends the transferal with a little tap of her forehead against Chaewon’s, a fond impulse that she couldn’t tamp down. Regrettably, she releases Chaewon’s chin.

The blonde girl opens her eyes and her pupils are blown, steadfastly fixed on Olivia’s face. Olivia isn't interested in anything but staring right back, and the silence between them stretches on.

“I lied about the reason I’m here,” Hyunjin suddenly announces, gaze faraway. “I’ve never seen Miss Yubin naked. I don’t know what she’s into. She gave me detention because I kept interrupting her class with cat noises.”

It’s silent again, but for an entirely different reason. Hyunjin looks around at their faces and her own becomes bashful.

“What? I would’ve admitted it earlier, but everyone was kind of crying.”

She’s got a point there, and to be honest, Olivia’s glad to strike off “BDSM fiend” from the list of things she knows about Shermer High’s art teacher.

-

Things devolve, as they often do with a gaggle of pubescent misfits at a school function, into dancing. Which means that Hyunjin shows off her moonwalk from one end of the library to the other while Olivia tries not to fall over laughing at Haseul’s attempt to do the worm.

Haseul, for her part, is failing largely because she cannot _stop_ laughing long enough to concentrate.

Meanwhile, Heejin’s fawning over Hyunjin’s moves and Chaewon’s magically procured a pair of Ray-Bans and is simply sitting in her chair, poised and chill as a cucumber. Every time Olivia looks her way, she throws up finger guns, and Olivia would be lying if she said she didn’t find it endlessly endearing.

Things are good. For once, Olivia doesn’t question it too much.

-

The rest of the detention goes smoothly, one instance of Principal Jeong checking on a suspiciously quiet and rigid group aside. As soon as he’d closed the door with a surprised tilt of his head, every last person had collapsed into giggles.

By the time he returns to conclude the session, Olivia is already stone cold sober. Dread at the thought of going back home begins to settle in her stomach – she’s contemplating heading for the 7-Eleven or Yerim’s place instead when Chaewon, surprisingly, grabs her wrist.

“Hye- Olivia,” she starts. Olivia doesn’t even think twice before correcting her.

“You can call me Hyejoo.” Chaewon’s eyebrows jump in surprise and Olivia shrugs, playing it casual so Chaewon won’t notice the eagerness in her eyes. “Olivia sounds weird coming from you.”

Usually, Olivia_ hates_ being called Hyejoo. Hates how her dad spits it out, how Principal Jeong wields it like a threat, even how the teachers insist on the formality of her full name and how it reminds her she’s the product of a waste of space.

Chaewon is different, though. Olivia’s heard her say “Hyejoo” in annoyance, in exasperation, but she’s also heard it sound like a plea, once or twice even a smile. And Olivia’s not done hearing her real name in every tone Chaewon’s capable of.

Chaewon doesn’t need to know all of that, though. The way her eyes shine and her cheeks bulge with the stretch of her smile tells Olivia that the symbolism of it is enough.

“You were craving my attention, Wonnie?” she prompts after a moment. Chaewon makes a face like she’s going to gag and Olivia chuckles.

“What are you doing after this?” Then she bats her eyelashes up at her, and it’s lethal.

“I thought you didn’t care how I spend my Saturdays?” she challenges anyways. If Chaewon thinks she’s being difficult on purpose, she’s right. There’s no way she’s passing up the chance to make Chaewon admit she wants to spend time with her.

She doesn’t expect the bold reply she gets: “Come home with me.”

Olivia quirks an eyebrow, sly remark on the tip of her tongue when Chaewon clamps one of her tiny hands over her mouth.

“Don’t,” she warns sternly. Which is about as intimidating as a quacking baby duck. “That came out wrong. I think I’m still a little high, so… drive me home?”

When Olivia’s brow furrows, Chaewon releases her mouth. “I don’t have a car.”

“I do,” Chaewon says, and holds up a pair of Ferrari keys. Olivia’s jaw drops.

“You’re going to let me, who does not have a license, drive your brand new– wait, what am I doing?” She snatches the keys from Chaewon’s hands. The other girl laughs, and they start heading for the exit. “You got food at home, princess?”

Admittedly, she’s fucking starving, and she’d bet a pretty penny that Chaewon has the munchies.

“Oh my God, _food_!” Chaewon’s eyes widen with desire. Then, confoundingly, she pouts. “I want a grilled cheese so,_ so_ bad, Hyejoo.”

“Do you not have the ingredients or something?” Olivia asks.

Chaewon’s pout deepens even more. “I can’t cook,” she laments.

Olivia spins the key ring around on her finger.

“Well, you’re in luck, ‘cause I can,” she boasts, and Chaewon quite literally jumps for joy. It makes her feel important, almost valued — it’s too nice of a feeling for her to bother being embarrassed that she’s affected by something so small.

-

Predictably, Chaewon’s home is a veritable mansion. There’s even a fountain in the front yard, which is _such_ a rich person cliché. Olivia tries not to let all the sculptures and priceless modern art intimidate her as she follows Chaewon first to a literal walk-in pantry, then to a pristine, ivory-finished kitchen. Honestly, she feels a bit stupid when she remembers the wad of cash she’d stuffed in Chaewon’s locker, but maybe it’s the thought that counts. She’s here now, after all.

When Olivia starts working on the grilled cheeses, Chaewon perches on the counter next to the stove. She’s got a slice of processed cheese cradled in her hands, taking minuscule bites and then chewing for way too long, cheeks puffed up like a cute little chipmunk.

“Don’t you usually have dance practice after detention?” Olivia asks, the thought suddenly occurring to her as she flips their sandwiches over. The pan sizzles tantalizingly.

“Technically I’m skipping right now,” Chaewon admits bashfully. “I’m not acting captain until I finish my punishment, though, so missing one time won’t hurt anything.”

Olivia can’t help but grin, too pleased to manage a smirk. “Chose me over your favorite pastime, huh?”

Chaewon scoffs exaggeratedly. “Actually I chose food, which is my _real_ favorite pastime,” she smarts.

Olivia tuts and points the spatula at Chaewon accusingly.

“Now, now, Gowon, we both know that food was decided upon after you asked me to, and I quote, “come home” with you.”

Chaewon’s face flushes at being called out. “Maybe I just didn’t feel like being home alone again!”

But Olivia won’t be deterred, practically drunk on the giddiness in her chest. “So you like my company that much, huh?” she teases. “Be honest: am I your favorite person?” Chaewon slaps a hand to her own forehead.

“Oh my God, you’re impossible,” she whines.

Olivia barks out a laugh. “Grilled cheeses are done, princess.” Flips the stove knob off and then fixes Chaewon with a serious look. She waits until the other girl stops hiding behind her hand long enough to maintain eye contact. “For the record, I’m glad to be here.”

Chaewon’s eyes soften, so Olivia adds: “Because this shit smells _delicious_.”

“I hate you,” Chaewon groans, but she still grasps Olivia’s shoulders as she hops off the counter. Olivia, of course, forgets to breathe for a good ten seconds.

-

They relocate to the cream-colored couch in the “den” (also a rich person thing, Olivia notes), melty grilled cheeses resting on what honestly looks like expensive china. Soon after, the pitter patter of little feet darting down the stairs kicks up and before Olivia knows it, there’s a sentient ball of white fluff dancing around the couch, begging for scraps.

“And who is this little pig?” Olivia asks, well aware that the dog is actually just as tiny and cute as Chaewon. She uses her index finger to taunt it before scratching under its chin.

“That’s Bbomi, and she’s perfect, thank you,” Chaewon returns crossly. She tries to get the dog’s attention, beckoning her to her lap, but Bbomi is all eyes for the new human showering her in affection. Olivia can admit that Bbomi’s fur is very soft, and when she breaks off a bit of her sandwich for her, the dog gobbles it then licks her chops endearingly.

“Bbomi, stop begging,” Chaewon scolds, scooping the little thing up and into her lap. Bbomi sits patiently but her eyes remain trained on Olivia and her sandwich. It doesn’t seem to occur to her that Chaewon also has a grilled cheese.

Olivia feeds her another piece despite Chaewon’s half-hearted protests. “Just like her master, food and Hyejoo-motivated,” Olivia teases.

Chaewon must be running out of protests, because she simply shakes her head in a way that’s both exasperated and, somehow, kind of fond.

“Whatever, loser.” She finishes off her sandwich before grabbing the TV remote. “I think there’s a _She-Ra_ marathon on.”

Olivia supposes that means she’s going to be sticking around for a while. Lucky for her, since there’s kind of nowhere else she’d rather be.

-

It takes several hours, but eventually, Chaewon’s eyelids begin to droop. Olivia watches out of her periphery; every time the girl’s eyes close and her chin starts to dip, she suddenly shakes herself out of it. Part of her wants to joke about how Chaewon really must be desperate to savor every moment with her, but she’s afraid if she draws attention to it, Chaewon will simply tell her to leave so she can go to sleep.

Which is how she finds herself sitting still as one of the surrounding statues, Chaewon’s forehead just barely resting on her shoulder. She had succumbed to sleep about forty-five minutes ago and Olivia is still debating what exactly she should do about it. Thinking is no easy task with her heart in her throat and her head buzzing like a series of exclamation points.

It strikes 9:30 pm, denoted by an obnoxious cuckoo clock in the dining room. Olivia figures it’s now or never and starts shifting around lightly to see if that’ll wake Chaewon up. She doesn’t want to jostle her too much, so when it fails, she tucks some hair behind Chaewon’s ear and starts blowing hot air on her cheek.

Chaewon jumps to attention, grogginess keeping her gaze nebulous. “Is it not enough that you blew _into_ my mouth earlier?”

Olivia lets out a guffaw.

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it, sweetheart,” she says and chucks Chaewon under the chin.

Her tone is glib, words intended to be harmlessly inciting. There isn’t a single part of her that thinks Chaewon would ever actually give her the time of day. Except for this day, she supposes, and she’s no sooner had the thought than Chaewon’s cheeks are burning, eyes wide and guilty. It’s only there for a flash, and then Chaewon’s brushing Bbomi off her lap so she can stand up and Olivia loses her eyeline.

“Gag me with a spoon, Hyejoo. I probably got higher from the fumes of your toxic breath than the weed,” she shoots back. It hits its mark — Olivia’s eyes narrow as she glowers.

“Guess that’s my signal to bounce,” she huffs, rearing up to stalk her way out of the house. Chaewon had taken a couple of steps toward the stairs, and Olivia can’t avoid grazing her as she passes. Except she gets caught, Chaewon’s grip sure on her wrist.

When she braves a glance at the shorter girl’s face, she finds that her big, doll-like eyes are filled with remorse.

“No, I’m sorry,” Chaewon admits before worrying her lip.

Bitterly, “Must be a BOGO on apologies today.”

Chaewon’s eyebrows furrow in her upset, and Olivia, stupidly, wants to apologize right back. Instead, she remains silent, because Chaewon is still holding her in place.

“Obviously your breath wasn’t bad, okay?” she says, just a tad defensive. “I mean it smelt like weed, but it wasn’t… God, this is so stupid. Can you just accept my apology and stay the night?”

Olivia’s mouth goes dry. “You want me to stay the night?”

Chaewon nods quickly. “My parents are gone all weekend, so. I was telling the truth about not wanting to be alone earlier.”

“What about one of your friends?” Olivia worries. She doesn’t like the idea that this is regular for Chaewon. Just because she personally would prefer an absentee dad to the one she’s got doesn’t mean Chaewon’s situation is much better.

“You’re here already.” Chaewon flutters her lashes. Olivia has to gulp so her voice won’t crack.

“Ah, want me to blow in your mouth again?” she jokes quietly.

Chaewon sighs, but it almost sounds relieved. Her features are so soft, and so close, and her lashes are long and her smile is wonky and—

Olivia wants to kiss her; she just doesn’t think Chaewon would kiss back.

“C’mon,” Chaewon says, grip on Olivia’s wrist sliding down to wrap around a single finger. “I’m too lazy to make up a guest bed so you can just stay in mine.”

Yeah, this girl is going to give Olivia a heart attack.

-

Honestly, Chaewon’s room is exactly what she imagined. It’s like a magazine cutout of her thoughts: pastel pinks and shag carpet, a king size bed with those transparent fabrics draped over the posts, several mountains of plushies and posters of pop stars all over the walls. It’s vomit-inducing, but it’s also_ so_ Chaewon.

Still, Olivia fakes a gag.

“You didn’t warn me you were going to _blind_ me,” she gripes.

When she looks at Chaewon, though, the girl is twisting her fingers around with worry etched on her face. “It’s kind of lame, I know, and there are way too many plushies, but my mom started buying me one a week when she realized I liked them and I just… haven’t told her to stop yet.”

Olivia’s eyebrows furrow. “Do you not want them anymore?”

There’s hurt in every line of Chaewon’s face as she shrugs.

“They stopped meaning as much once I realized they were a substitute for, y’know… presence,” she says quietly.

If she could, Olivia would gladly scoop out every last bit of sadness that’s filling Chaewon up and stuff it into her own overflowing chest. She can't, so she tries using her words instead.

“Well, plushies aside… it’s very you,” she says in an earnest whisper. “I like it.”

Chaewon’s eyes are still a bit glassy, but she rolls them anyways. “You just gagged and said it would make you blind.”

“I lied,” she says simply. Then, a bit braver, “I don’t dislike anything…” _about you_. “Um, anything in particular. I was just being a jerk.”

“You’re good at that,” Chaewon cracks, but her smile is returning, and Olivia feels more surefooted. There’s a delicate tension between them, a comfortable static settling into the moment. Olivia feels like Chaewon’s given her something, a sliver of her personhood, and she wants to offer something in return.

It makes her stomach twist, in fear and excitement and then, finally, resolve. She takes a steadying breath before she removes her leather jacket, tossing it towards the chair in the corner, and starts to unbutton her flannel overshirt.

Chaewon’s eyebrows hike up to her hairline as she hurriedly turns away. “You’re just gonna start changing in front of me?!” she asks frantically.

“If I remember correctly, princess, it seemed like you wanted to know what was under here earlier,” she returns. It’s joking, and yet it’s so obviously not. Chaewon goes frigid for a moment, registering the change in tone, and then she’s turning back around resolutely.

Below her flannel, Olivia has a white thermal undershirt. The cut of it probably reveals a mark or two near her collarbones, but she rolls the sleeves up anyways, heart thundering in her chest. Chaewon gasps at the sight: clusters of bruises gather all along her forearms, smaller blots like inky fingerprints and one or two larger, meaner ones. There’s a cigarette burn, too, right near Olivia’s inner left elbow.

She hears a sniffle and looks up to see Chaewon crying.

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” she practically coos, all doubts forgotten as she cradles Chaewon’s cheeks and swipes at her tears with her thumbs. “Please don’t cry.”

It only seems to make Chaewon cry harder, hands frantic but featherlight as they trace down Olivia’s forearms like she can’t decide where to touch without inflicting pain.

“But-but,” she hiccups. Olivia shushes her and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hyejoo, y-you’re the one that’s hurt and you’re com-comforting _me_!”

She sounds perturbed, and in spite of it all, Olivia lets out a little chuckle.

“I’m always hurt, Wonnie,” she whispers. It’s factual, and it’s pathetic, and this time it’s Chaewon pressing their foreheads together. Her thumbs rub soothing, light circles into Olivia’s skin.

Chaewon’s next words are so tiny they’re barely audible: “Your dad?”

Olivia keeps her eyes scrunched closed as she nods.

“Why?” It’s incredulous, almost angry. Olivia allows herself another moment of being surrounded by Chaewon’s warmth and lavender scent before she’s pulling away with a little swipe of her thumb against the other girl’s cheek. Chaewon’s eyes fly open like Olivia’s removal from her space has disoriented her.

“Oh, you know, any old reason,” she sighs. Then, despite her fright in the face of complete honesty, “At first it was because he’s an angry drunk and my mom left. Kind of became habit, I guess, after a while. He’s been angrier, though, since-“

She cuts herself off for a breath. The smaller girl waits patiently, features receptive.

“Well, you must know what people call me.”

‘Dyke’ goes unsaid, doesn’t need to be uttered in Chaewon’s soft pink room with her four-poster bed and lacey accenting.

She sees Chaewon swallow, but for all the time she spends cataloging her expressions, she has no idea what this one means. Her face is pink, lips slightly parted, brows just a tad scrunched.

Bravely, Olivia asks, “Does that… mean anything to you?”

There’s the barest of nods, and then Olivia can’t stand to look at Chaewon anymore. She doesn’t know what it all means or why her throat feels so thick, but she does know that if she keeps looking at Chaewon, the other girl will look right back and then maybe she’ll _see_ her, truly. See how much the meaning of that answer matters to her. See Olivia cry, too, probably.

Her gaze is faraway, trained but not focused on a poster of some supermodel.

Suddenly, there’s soft pressure at her collarbone and Olivia has the stuttered realization that Chaewon’s just kissed one of the bruises there. Her heart seizes, fire in her gut.

Chaewon locks eyes with her, and Olivia stares in wonder.

-

Eventually, Chaewon breaks the spell with an excuse about needing to follow her nighttime routine. Olivia makes herself comfortable on her bed, toying with Bbomi’s paws while the dog lays belly-up.

Chaewon isn’t kidding about her routine; it takes a good forty minutes of shuffled noises and running water from the other side of her bathroom door before she’s emerging in cyan pineapple pajamas.

“Fruity,” Olivia jokes. It catches Chaewon so off-guard that she dissolves into giggles.

“Hyejoo!” she scolds, but there’s no weight to it.

Olivia pats Bbomi’s belly one last time and then scoots to the other side of the bed, arms stretched wide to invite Chaewon over. When Chaewon quirks a brow, she says, “I think we both know the reason I’m here is because you want to cuddle.”

Chaewon blushes, and yet upon approach, she bats Olivia’s arms aside and crawls between Olivia and Bbomi. When Olivia tries to turn towards her, Chaewon just shoves her back with little pats on her shoulder and back.

“Wha-“

Chaewon maneuvers her just how she wants her and then tucks herself against Olivia, arms coming to wrap around Olivia’s torso and head buried between her shoulder blades.

“What is happening?” Olivia asks dumbly.

Muffled, “_I’m_ holding _you_. I think you deserve it.”

It feels like there’s lava in her veins, her heart pumping so quickly it burns. She knows her face is red, but luckily, Chaewon can’t see it.

“O-okay,” she says.

It’s quiet, then, and Olivia gradually relaxes until she floats into a dreamless, cocoon-warm sleep.

-

For the first time in she doesn’t even know how long, Olivia blinks awake to complete stillness. It’s pitch black in Chaewon’s room, but when she glances at the clock, she sees it’s 10:09 am. _Of course_ she has privacy curtains.

Chaewon is still exactly where she was the night before. The only differences are that Bbomi’s now curled into Olivia’s stomach, and sometime during the night, Chaewon’s fingers interlocked with hers.

Her chest’s swelling again, but there’s a nagging at the back of her mind. She knows she’s been gone from home too long, and now she doesn’t know what she’ll be met with when she gets back.

Which means she can’t stay here all day, unfortunately.

She still allows herself a couple of deep breaths, long enough to span five minutes. Then, very carefully, she extricates herself so that neither Chaewon nor Bbomi will wake up. She knows if she’s faced with either of their moonish eyes that she’ll be convinced to stay the whole weekend, and then things might be even worse for her.

With a sigh, she scrawls out a note on a post-it she finds on Chaewon’s desk.

_Had to head home. Thank you_… After a minute of hesitation, she adds, _xx_.

(She passes a couple of open doors to guest rooms on her way out, beds perfectly made up and untouched. There’s hope rising in her chest like the water level during a flood, and Hyejoo’s not so sure she can bail it all out anymore.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aha stream seven by taylor swift
> 
> (honestly, though, please leave kudos/comments/etc. if you enjoyed. it really does mean a lot to me <3)


	5. week four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EYYYYYY I DID IT!!!! this is the last full chapter; the part afterwards is just an epilogue. i kind of can't believe i started posting this fic over a year ago??? i'm so sorry to always be leaving you guys waiting, but i really hope i've delivered something worthwhile with this one! with no further ado, please enjoy :D

_= week four =_

“… so I’m in the backyard and this blonde girl comes up to me all toothy, right?” Sooyoung’s voice drones on. “And she’s like, ‘Woah, can I take a picture of you?’ and I’m like, ‘Uh, why?’ Get this! She goes, ‘Because I’m in Yearbook Club and you’ve got a first love kind of smile.’ _So_ greasy, right? But also… like… cute?”

It's practically white noise to Chaewon. The words wisp through her mind, hardly registered before they’re dissipating into the bustling ambience of the outside lunch tables, where cliques of students gather to eat and sneakily attempt to disobey school rules. Chaewon spotted Yeojin with a boombox four times the size of her head earlier; she has no idea where the girl hides it during class time.

Hyejoo would probably be up to no good, too, if she were here.

Chaewon lets out a sigh, pouting into her palm as she props an elbow on the table. Just like last week, Hyejoo hadn’t been around to bully Yeojin this morning or pester Chaewon during homeroom. Worse than last week, Chaewon doesn’t know if it means Hyejoo is in serious trouble… or seriously hurt. She squeezes her eyes shut and physically blanches at the thought, willing its expulsion from her mind.

She hopes Hyejoo is okay. Best to focus on that.

“Wait, _JUNGIE’S_ Jinsol?!” Jiwoo suddenly bursts, attracting the curious stares of nearby students. Chaewon snaps out of her reverie long enough to quirk a judgmentally manicured eyebrow.

“Oh, _now_ you pay attention!” Jiwoo accuses, voice pitching higher and index finger jabbing towards Chaewon’s face.

“Kind of impossible to ignore a human squeaky toy,” Chaewon snarks back. Jiwoo deflates with a pout, and Sooyoung waits until the surrounding students return to their business before speaking.

“’Kay, jailbird, what the hell is up with you?” Her eyes are narrowed shrewdly and Chaewon feels a prickling at the back of her neck that is distinctly similar to every experience of Principal Jeong scolding someone.

“Nothing!” she says, but it’s too quick to be convincing. Both Sooyoung and Jiwoo purse their lips at her. “I’m just distracted, whatever, don’t worry about it,” she waves away.

Jiwoo clearly wants to push it, but Sooyoung simply shrugs. “Whatever. Anyways, yeah, Jung Jinsol…”

Chaewon sighs into her palm, head once more propped as she broods. She can’t even blame Sooyoung for being all gushy, because if circumstances were different, she might be bursting at the seams to talk about Hyejoo, too. Maybe that’s _why_ it’s bothering her so much. All of this worry, all of this care, all of these newfound feelings of excitement and anticipation and trepidation… they’re just bottled up inside, tamped down tightly by Chaewon’s much more overwhelming feeling of _fear_.

There’s a lot to be feared here, logistically, and that’s not even getting into the whole _having feelings_ _for someone_ part. Granting them that power to hurt you; knowing you could hurt them in return.

Before work and weekend networking took over her parents’ lives, Chaewon’s mom used to say she knew her dad was special because he made her heart jump. Chaewon never really got what that meant, couldn’t quite project it onto Johnny in homeroom or Juyeon from the basketball team.

Hyejoo is… different. Chaewon never had to try – Hyejoo just made it impossible for her to do anything _but_ notice her. And now she can’t seem to stop. Sometimes it feels like all the synapses in her brain are roaring to life at once when Hyejoo says something, even something stupid or incendiary, and sometimes it feels like her brain shuts down altogether. She can’t make up or down of it, but she thinks she’d have somewhere to start if Hyejoo were at least, y’know… here.

As if summoned by longing alone, she spots a dark figure out of the corner of her eye slinking towards the main entrance from the football field. She knows it’s Hyejoo before she _sees_ it’s Hyejoo, and she can’t even say exactly why that is.

Hyejoo catches her eye before entering the building, tilting a grin that’s caught between her signature smirk and the real thing.

Chaewon’s heart stops. Stutters. And then jumps.

-

Yeah, okay, maybe she only waits two seconds before following Hyejoo into the building. Sue her, she has questions that need answers.

Hyejoo doesn’t acknowledge the second set of footsteps echoing through the empty hallway, but after a turn or two Chaewon realizes she’s gradually picking up her pace. In response, Chaewon is practically jogging by the time she reaches a third turn and nearly barrels straight into a waiting Hyejoo.

“Looking for someone?” she taunts, one arm leaning against the wall with practiced ease as she towers over Chaewon. Whom, for her part, is still kind of out of breath.

“Yeah, you,” Chaewon deadpans. Her intent was to be snarky, but the breathlessness makes it come out simply honest, and Hyejoo’s eyebrows jump as her face floods a lovely pink. Chaewon bites her lip before asking, “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine” is Hyejoo’s automatic response. After a moment, she adds more seriously, “I’m always fine.”

Chaewon’s brow furrows.

_I’m always hurt, Wonnie._

“Okay, well, I woke up to an empty bed and a note after a kind of serious conversation and I haven’t seen you in two days so let me just ask again: are you _okay?”_

At the reminder, Hyejoo breaks their eye contact and gulps. When she looks back, freshly steeled, that stupid smirk is painting her face.

“What are you gonna do about it if I’m not, princess?” she asks, slowly encroaching on Chaewon’s space until she has her trapped against the wall. Her dark eyes glint in the shifting light. “Kiss it better?”

Feeling brave, and knowing now just how unfair it would be to Hyejoo to respond any way other than honestly, Chaewon volleys, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Hyejoo goes stiff. Her features twitch like she isn’t quite sure how to process this turn of events, but then she clenches and unclenches her fist in Chaewon’s periphery. By the time Chaewon refocuses on her face, Hyejoo’s rolling her tongue behind her teeth and peering down at her in an intensely calculating manner.

“Oh my God, Hyejoo, stop trying to come up with a flirty one-liner and just tell me if I should be as worried as I am right now,” Chaewon pleads, exasperated and desperate all at once. She tugs at Hyejoo’s shirt as she speaks, tiny fist pulling the taller girl closer to her.

It's enough to soften Hyejoo’s resolve, enough for the girl to hold her gaze meaningfully as she grasps the fist bunching up her clothes, gentle fingers prying it apart and flattening Chaewon’s palm. She feels rather than hears Hyejoo’s breath stutter; the next moment, her hand’s being guided under Hyejoo’s shirt and to a spot just below her ribcage.

Her skin is warm to the touch. When Chaewon applies a bit of pressure, Hyejoo flinches, but otherwise holds the placement steady. Her eyes are wide, features open and _scared_.

Chaewon wants to kiss it better. She wants to scream it better, cry it better, break the world in half if she can make this one thing better for Hyejoo.

It’s immobilizing. Holding Hyejoo’s trust in her hand, feeling Hyejoo’s smooth skin beneath her fingertips. She stares and stares and _stares_, and then, just when she thinks she’s ready…

The bell rings. Hyejoo breaks away, hastily creating distance between them before a flood of students can overwhelm the hallways.

Chaewon focuses on catching that breath Hyejoo stole and never quite gave back.

-

Most days, Chaewon drives Heejin home. She has dance practice and Heejin has theater, and every other Thursday they both have student council duties, so it works out.

Lately, though, Chaewon’s been spending an awful lot of time sitting on a bench, waiting for Heejin and Hyunjin to wrap up their flirtations. Like today, for example. She’s heard them say goodbye at least six times and yet Heejin’s fists are still clinging to Hyunjin’s unreasonably long sweater sleeves.

Chaewon rolls her eyes and clears her throat loudly to catch their attention. In turn, Heejin shoots her an apologetic look not unlike a sulking bunny before rising on tiptoes to kiss Hyunjin’s cheek. The taller girl sort of flinches, but in an endeared kind of way, where she’s left curling towards Heejin even as Heejin breaks away.

“Sorry about that,” Heejin says upon approach. Hyunjin is still hovering about fifteen feet away; she’ll probably wait there until they’re safely in Chaewon’s car.

Chaewon huffs a breath of air. “It’s routine now, isn’t it?” she gripes.

Heejin actually _tsks_ at her.

“Don’t be jealous just because you wish Olivia would wait around for you after school,” she taunts.

Panic seizes like ice in her veins. “I don’t—What are you—"

“Save it, Chae. We all saw the shotgun kiss. You swooned. Visibly.”

In her periphery, Chaewon spots Hyunjin nodding vigorously. She scoffs and practically drags Heejin towards her Testarossa.

“So, what if I did? You’re out here, like, swapping spit with Hyunjin,” she returns.

“Yeah, exactly,” Heejin says. Chaewon shoots her a questioning look over the hood of her car. “You should try it sometime.” A beat as she realizes what she said, eyes widening into saucers. “Not with Hyunjin though! With Olivia. Only Olivia. Obviously.”

Chaewon feels her face burn, so she focuses on fastening her seatbelt and biting the inside of her cheek before she replies. It’s not that she doesn’t want to… with Hyejoo. It’s just that it’s risky. In general, but especially for Shermer High’s princess.

“How do you guys get away with it?” she asks quietly, pulling out of her parking space. Heejin looks surprised, almost like she expected Chaewon to tell her to shut up and just drop it.

“What do you mean?”

If it weren’t for her grip on the steering wheel, Chaewon would be twiddling her thumbs. “Don’t people… well, don’t they suspect anything? And… say stuff?”

“Honestly? Not really.” Heejin shrugs. “It’s easy to pass her off as my new oddball outcast friend, and I’ve sort of got an alibi ‘cause I dated Jimin when I was a freshman.” After a moment, she flips her hair like the “it” girl she is. But where Chaewon might make the motion haughty, Heejin manages to make it look effortless. “Also, I’m the only contralto in theater.”

Chaewon can’t help but giggle, endeared by her friend’s confidence. It fades quickly as the content of her words actually sinks in.

“But… everyone already knows… about Hyejoo,” Chaewon points out.

Heejin goes quiet, and Chaewon isn’t sure what to think.

“You could… still try?” she proposes after a bit. It’s too hesitant to be reassuring.

The rest of the ride is silent, Chaewon falling into a brooding contemplation that leaves her unable to hold conversation.

-

Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Chaewon is officially over all of her friends. Because where Sooyoung has spent every morning for the past two and a half years with her hip attached to the locker next to Chaewon’s, this Wednesday morning she’s completely MIA. And Chaewon suspects the reason starts with double Js.

It’s not that she cares what they’re up to, really; it’s just that Chaewon can’t stand to be left alone in public. There are always eyes on her, a sticky crawling sensation that can usually be ignored if she has a distraction. Without one, she feels stiff and calculated in her movements, even when she’s just procuring a book or two from her locker.

The sound of a familiar voice nearby causes her spine to lock up, a spike of warmth where blood rushes to her ears.

“You know that Haseul chick? Jo Haseul, I think?” Hyejoo says. Chaewon peeks out from behind her locker door and spots her chatting with Yerim, back to Chaewon. Yerim’s eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, but even still her lips are upturned.

“You mean Yeojin’s older sister?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” she asks, and this time there’s a hint of suspicion to her voice. Though Chaewon can’t see Hyejoo’s face, she _can_ see the way Hyejoo shrugs and then rolls her shoulders in a performatively casual way.

“I don’t know, just thought you could invite her to sit with us at lunch one day or something,” she says. Then, as if she feels compelled to explain: “Think you guys might get along.”

Yerim breaks into a smile that’s blinding. “That’s a GREAT idea, Olivia! I’m so proud—”

And then Chaewon’s eavesdropping is cut off, because suddenly someone has taken it upon themselves to trap her shoulders with their arm, the length of a body hot and unwelcome against her side. She knows it’s Eric by the smell of his over-sprayed cologne.

“H—”

“Ugh, as if!” she bursts, reflexively shoving him off of her.

He falls to the ground and then scurries away like he’s embarrassed, but it only takes another moment for Chaewon to realize there’s a new presence hovering behind her protectively.

Chaewon turns to Hyejoo.

“I don’t need saving,” she states. Hyejoo quirks a brow, smile widening uncontrollably.

“Didn’t say you did.” Then, she steps a bit closer, toeing the line of acceptability. “You know, you’re quite feisty for a princess.”

Chaewon slams her locker shut in an attempt to distract Hyejoo from the way her lips tug up, electricity sparking in her chest. Also, she doesn’t want Hyejoo to see that she’s taped her note in there; it’s kind of lame.

“Shut up,” she says, biting her lip.

Surprisingly, Hyejoo does. But only to snatch Chaewon’s books from her hands.

“Hye—”

The bell rings. Students disperse chaotically, all in a hurry to make it to homeroom in the next five minutes. Chaewon attempts a swipe at her books, and Hyejoo leverages her height to keep them out of her reach.

“Hyejooooo,” Chaewon whines pathetically. “What are you getting at?”

“We’re going to the same place, aren’t we?” Hyejoo returns. She takes a step towards their classroom. “C’mon, Wonnie.”

Chaewon pauses as realization hits, a silly grin making its way to her face. “You’re walking me to class?”

“No way,” Hyejoo insists. “Like I said, we both just happen to be going to the same place at the same time…” As Chaewon begins to match her steps, Hyejoo pulls in closer. Their shoulders bump. “... a slightly-less-than-respectable distance apart.”

It feels like a million little fireflies flurry in her chest, bright and buzzing. They enter a more secluded wing of the building, and Chaewon glances around to make sure the hallway is empty before she places a hand on Hyejoo’s forearm delicately.

“Oooooh, the princess is touching me,” Hyejoo whispers, both conspiratorial and teasing.

Chaewon walks probably the slowest she has in her life, and that’s saying something. She’s more than a bit desperate to savor the moment.

When the final bell rings as they reach the threshold, Hyejoo hands over her books and Chaewon is left to rush inside. It takes a good two minutes for Hyejoo to follow, but once she does, she stretches her legs out from her seat behind Chaewon until the toe of her boot nudges the sole of Chaewon’s converse.

Chaewon presses back and ducks her head to hide another ridiculous smile, too aware of Jiwoo’s presence to her left.

-

Hyejoo keeps… doing things like that. Little things, like grazing her fingertips along the ends of Chaewon’s hair as she passes at lunch later that day (Jiwoo looks confused and Sooyoung quirks an eyebrow knowingly, but Chaewon is pretty sure the populace at large doesn’t notice). And on Friday, after Hyejoo _totally_ _doesn’t_ walk Chaewon to class, she opens one of her books to find a baggie of Fun Fruits tucked between the pages. With it, another sticky note:

_Save for dance practice xx_

(And, yeah, maybe her heart flutters and she spends the rest of the period with her feet resting over top of Hyejoo's steel-toed boots. Whatever.)

But now it’s just getting weird. Well, not weird. Overwhelming. Chaewon can’t process it, because she can’t exactly think straight when Hyejoo is around.

Which she is in increasing frequency. Case in point: her sudden arrival as Chaewon perches on her designated bench after school, for once sans the sweethearts.

“Okay, I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me,” Chaewon teases, bratty purse to her lips. Hyejoo hops up next to her and makes herself comfortable.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Gowon,” Hyejoo returns. “Maybe I’m waiting to be picked up.”

Chaewon arches an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“No.” Hyejoo grins. Then, she shuffles as if to launch herself off the table. “You don’t want me here?”

Hurriedly, and with a hand at Hyejoo’s wrist to stop her, “I didn’t say that.”

Hyejoo looks down at the contact pointedly, and then right back up at Chaewon.

“_I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me_,” she quotes mockingly.

Chaewon rolls her eyes, frustrated and fond and inexplicably addicted to the push and pull of it all.

“How did you even know I’d be here?”

“Hyunjin said something about it,” Hyejoo shrugs. She’s doing that thing where she tries to play everything off casually, but her face is pink and there’s a hopeful glint in her eye. “Mentioned Heejin wasn’t riding with you today.”

Chaewon pouts. “Yeah, I’m waiting for my dad to pick me up. Tessa’s in the shop after you drove her last week.”

Panic widens Hyejoo’s eyes, and it’d be comical if it wasn’t so adorable to see the big bad criminal frazzled at the thought of having inadvertently harmed her car. “Wait, really?”

With a smirk, Chaewon admits, “Nah. Just needed an oil change.”

“Oh,” Hyejoo breathes. She actually, visibly sags with relief. Then, she smirks back. “You’re getting better at this banter thing.”

“I’ve always been good at it,” Chaewon dismisses snootily. Hyejoo lets out a full-belly laugh.

“Yeah, true,” she says, eyes crescent from the way her features are set so happily.

Chaewon stares for a good long moment before a thought occurs to her. A remembrance, really, since she’s ruminated on this idea for a couple of days already.

“Oh!” She perks up as she starts digging through her bag. When she finds the little wad of cash from her locker the other week – the one she knows rightfully belongs to Jo Yeojin – she holds it up like a prize. “I heard you might be looking to expand your social circle. This could be a good peace offering, if you want to be Haseul’s friend.”

Every last stage of emotion is plain to see on Hyejoo’s face: the surprised widening of her features, which morphs into a neutral tilt of her head as she realizes Chaewon was eavesdropping, and then the flooding of her cheekbones with color even as the corner of her lip quirks up.

She grasps the cash deliberately, fingers curling around Chaewon’s rather than simply plucking it away. Then, with her free hand, she chucks Chaewon under the chin. Unlike the last time, she lingers. And though Chaewon is once more reminded of the closeness of the shotgun incident, she finds herself leaning in rather than panicking and throwing out a jab.

“Thanks, princess,” Hyejoo whispers. Her breath fans over Chaewon’s face, and Chaewon licks her lips just to watch Hyejoo’s gaze slide down.

The next second, Hyejoo is extricating herself completely. Chaewon looks around, disoriented and half-convinced that her dad showed up and honked his car and she just missed it. There’s nothing to indicate why Hyejoo has suddenly removed herself, and Chaewon finds her brow furrowing as the taller girl brushes some hair back.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow,” she says, offering a half-tilt of a smile before walking away.

There’s a gaping hole in Chaewon’s chest, a heavy emptiness she can only describe as _wanting_. She feels swaddled in it, drowned by it, and all she can think about is how much worse it gets with every step Hyejoo takes away from her.

-

Once again, she’s the first person in the library for detention. It doesn’t take long for Heejin and Hyunjin to walk in together, then Haseul a bit later, and, finally, Hyejoo. Chaewon perks up at her entrance and Hyejoo notices, self-satisfied smirk stretching her lips.

Chaewon can’t have that, so she plays up a false dismissiveness and straightens in her seat with her eyes trained forward. Hyejoo flicks at her hair with an index finger as she passes.

“Chaewon,” she greets; her smile is evident in her voice.

“Hyejoo,” Chaewon returns flatly.

Hyejoo barks out a laugh just in time for Principal Jeong to arrive. He looks shocked at the sound, gaze immediately snapping to her.

“Son Hyejoo,” he says. “On time again? Keep this up and you might not have detention all the way up to graduation.”

“Aw,” Hyejoo returns, and Chaewon can imagine the faux pout she’s probably wearing. “But then when will I get a chance to ask you to sign my senior yearbook?”

A giggle sounds out; a moment later, Chaewon realizes it’s _hers_. She promptly clamps a hand over her mouth before Principal Jeong can glare at her.

“Well, you all know the drill now, I’m sure,” he states. “I’ll be back later to check on you.”

Chaewon only waits about thirty seconds after his exit, legs bouncing impatiently all the while, before she hops out of her seat and makes her way over to Hyejoo. Her approach causes Hyejoo to look on with confusion, eyes round and shiny like a puppy’s.

“Excuse me,” she says politely before pushing Hyejoo’s shoulder so that her back is aligned properly with the chair. Unceremoniously, she helps herself to Hyejoo’s lap. Slides an arm around the frozen girl’s shoulders and crosses her legs once she’s seated.

It takes a moment for Hyejoo to thaw, but once she does, her gaze bounces from Chaewon’s face to her legs to her arm and back to her face. A pause, and she repeats the cycle. Chaewon makes sure to keep her own eyes trained on Hyejoo and only Hyejoo – she doesn’t want to know what kind of look Heejin is giving her right now.

“Chair not comfy enough?” Hyejoo says finally, snark evidently having returned.

Chaewon shrugs one shoulder. “It was fine, but I wanted to be here instead.”

Hyejoo breaks into a megawatt smile, and Chaewon swipes her thumb fondly at her leather-clad shoulder. This close, she can see the way Hyejoo’s eyes twinkle, can feel Hyejoo’s palm splaying across her spine. Warmth floods her whole being, and she feels so bubbly and silly that she has to look away.

When she does, she spots a jagged carving embedded in the wood of the desk in front of her.

“_SH_?” she reads with a tilt of her head.

“Sherlock fucking Holmes,” Hyejoo deadpans, and Chaewon isn’t the only one to chuckle. She hears Haseul snickering too.

Obviously, Hyejoo’s marked her spot with her true initials. Chaewon has an idea for an alteration, though, so she holds out her palm expectantly.

“Knife?” she requests. Hyejoo quirks an eyebrow in question, but Chaewon only clenches and unclenches her hand to signal her insistence.

With a sigh, she fishes her sheathed blade out of her pocket and places it in Chaewon’s hold. The moment Chaewon starts to feel around for the switch, though, she plucks it away and does it herself.

“Careful,” she admonishes gently. Her touch is light, motions slow as she aids Chaewon in wrapping her fingers around the base. Chaewon wonders how she never noticed how caring this girl was, how capable she is of treating others delicately when the world has only ever treated her unkindly.

It strengthens her resolve to follow through with carving her own initials right under Hyejoo’s, a little misshapen PC followed by an adjoining plus sign and then, finally, a heart to round it all out. She knows she’s being cheesy, but she also kind of doesn’t care.

Hyejoo hums as she watches, palm migrating until she’s got a proper hold on Chaewon’s waist.

When she finishes, she teases, “Something to remember me by when you’re still in detention for your lifelong term.”

Hyejoo doesn’t say anything, just tightens her grip and doesn’t meet Chaewon’s eyes, for some reason.

-

Before long, Hyunjin claims Chaewon’s vacant seat so that she can speak lowly to Heejin. Chaewon finds her hand buried in the hair at Hyejoo’s nape, scratching lightly and absentmindedly while she watches the two of them bicker like middle school boys. On some level, she’s aware of the way Hyejoo relaxes into her with her forehead poised against Chaewon’s shoulder.

Suddenly, a tentative voice: “So… this is your last detention, then?”

It’s Haseul, and when Chaewon looks her way, the other girl ducks her head but still meets her eyes.

“Yeah, it is,” Chaewon confirms.

Haseul looks down at her desk.

“It’s my last one too,” Hyunjin chips in. Heejin’s mouth falls a bit ajar in response.

“Wait, I still have three more,” she whines, wide eyes in full force.

Hyunjin takes one look at her before returning, “I mean, I could always find a way to end up here again.”

Heejin is quick to swat her arm.

“No, don’t do that, stupid!”

But before they can resume their squabbling and flirting, Haseul points out the dour truth.

“This is our last detention as a group…” she says quietly. Chaewon doesn’t miss the way that her shoulders slump and disappointment lines her eyes. Apparently, she isn’t the only one.

“We should make the most of it,” Hyejoo says. When Chaewon scans her face, she finds that Hyejoo is determined, maybe even a bit desperate. In turn, she nods along.

“Let’s go back to our spot!”

-

Once they’ve all settled into what they’ve come to view as their place in the loft of the library (with minor alterations – Heejin rests her head on Hyunjin’s shoulder and Chaewon rests her feet over Hyejoo’s shins just to be annoying), Hyejoo looks around as if assessing the situation. Then, she fixes Haseul with a challenging gaze.

“Let’s play truth or dare again,” she says; Heejin groans in protest from her perch.

“We play that every time.”

“Yeah, but I’ll go first this time,” Hyejoo insists. She still hasn’t taken her eyes off of Haseul, and Haseul is starting to shrink into the carpet. “Haseul, ask me truth or dare.”

It’s too pointed to be spur of the moment. Chaewon feels her brow furrow, confused at Hyejoo’s behavior.

“Uhhhh,” Haseul starts. She blinks slowly from behind her glasses. “Truth or dare?”

Immediately: “Truth.”

Again, Haseul hesitates. It’s clear that Hyejoo wants her to ask a_ particular_ question, but it’s also clear that Haseul wasn’t anticipating this. She glances around a bit, bereft at the pressure, before something like clarity overcomes her features.

Her voice is even, eyes narrowed, when she asks, “Why did you cheat on the test that got you into detention?”

And, suddenly, Chaewon understands as well. Just as Hyejoo had felt compelled to share something personal with _her_ after seeing her homelife, it has evidently stuck with her that Haseul had… sort of bared her soul for all of them. Repeatedly, and with no holds barred or expectations of reciprocation.

Hyejoo is all about meeting people halfway, Chaewon is learning.

“I—” Hyejoo starts. Stops. Chews at her bottom lip. “My dad…” She pauses to harshly blow a strand of hair out of the way of her vision. “Okay, I probably should’ve prepared what to say better,” she mumbles frustratedly.

Without a word, Chaewon crawls over to Hyejoo and takes her hand. If Hyejoo is going to share with everyone else what she’d shared with her, she’s going to need support and encouragement. So, when Hyejoo looks up at her in surprise, Chaewon nods and offers a proud little smile. The other girl exhales before nodding resolutely in return.

“Right, so… never been good at school, I think you all probably know that,” she says. Though it’s not exactly necessary, she glances at each of them for confirmation. “Never really mattered too much, either, as long as I didn’t actually fail, I guess.

“My dad… uh, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but… he drinks a lot. He’s an angry guy anyway; used to yell at my mom if she broke a glass in the sink on accident, likes to yell at me when I breathe too loud. The drinking makes it… worse. Uh,” she swallows audibly, and it’s almost jarring in the stillness of the room. “He gets violent.”

She peeks around at them again, before glancing down at her lap and then up at Chaewon’s face. Her eyes are glossy and Chaewon squeezes her hand in comfort.

“I’m mostly used to it, but… I don’t know, he found out from Principal Jeong that I’m failing Algebra II. Maybe he drank more than usual that day, too, I don’t know that either.” She lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug that lingers. “He hit me so hard I couldn’t hear out of my left ear for three days. Didn’t want it to happen again,” she finishes shortly.

Though her own vision is clouded with unshed tears, Chaewon finds herself frantically scanning Hyejoo’s face for any signs of bruising. She’d seen her arms, felt the tender skin of her stomach, but she’d never seen Hyejoo with a black eye. Even now, she can’t find any evidence, and maybe that breaks her heart most of all.

Hyejoo catches her staring out of the corner of her eye. “I used foundation for a couple weeks; it’s gone now.” Then, as if she’s once more prioritizing Chaewon in a moment that’s meant to be about her, she adds, “He doesn’t usually hit my face.”

It’s the helplessness of it all that causes something wretched to tear at Chaewon’s heart. She can’t help but lean forward, nudging Hyejoo’s jaw with her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. Hyejoo doesn’t even get a chance to reply before the sound of Heejin hiccupping back her blubbers fills the space.

“He—and you—“ she cries incoherently. For all her oddities, Hyunjin looks just as distraught as she wraps her arm tighter around Heejin.

Finally, Chaewon and Hyejoo look to Haseul. The other girl’s face is crumpled, but there’s something in her eyes that says she respects what Hyejoo’s just done.

“That’s awful,” she says brokenly, honestly. “You don’t deserve that, Olivia; I hope you know.”

Hyejoo chuckles wetly then. “One other thing.” She procures a recognizable wad of cash from her pocket and tosses it into Haseul’s lap. “Yeojin doesn’t deserve the shit I give her either. Could you, uh… give this back to her?”

The corner of Haseul’s mouth quirks up as she nods. “You know, if you’re having trouble with algebra… I’m really good at math.”

“No,” Hyejoo says, and Chaewon’s eyes snap to her in surprise. “You can’t just be all nice and tutor me because I’m gonna stop bullying your sister.”

This time, it’s Haseul’s turn to chuckle. “What about if you help me with shop?”

A pause as Hyejoo contemplates, cheeks sucked in tightly. Then, “Fine. I’ll make your final project for you or something, don’t even worry about it.”

The two of them smile at each other genuinely, and Chaewon stares in awe at the girl still tightly clutching her hand.

-

Another thing Chaewon is learning about Hyejoo: when the going gets tough, the Hyejoo gets high. She only waits maybe thirty seconds after such a serious conversation to refocus her attention on convincing the rest of them that now is _definitely_ the time to repeat their sins of last week. And, honestly, it doesn’t take much convincing. They’re all kind of emotionally burnt out – might as well actually burn out.

When it’s Chaewon’s turn, Hyejoo takes one long drag of her joint while watching her scrutinizingly. She holds it in her lungs as she says, “Now’s your chance, if you want me to blow in your mouth again.”

On the one hand, Chaewon absolutely wants Hyejoo’s face that close to hers. And also her mouth. Preferably closer, actually, but that’s not the point. Because on the other hand, she wore her favorite black skirt with overalls and a white blouse today, even woke up early to crimp her hair so she’d look extra cute. Point being: she’s trying to look a certain way for Hyejoo, and being too wussy to try the joint herself is a bit counter to her efforts.

So, she boldly plucks the joint right from out of Hyejoo’s hand and says, “I’m good.” Then she takes a drag, forcing air and smoke down her throat even though it burns something fierce.

She can’t stop the cough that bubbles up, or the many more that follow. Her eyes actually sting.

“Woah, princess,” Hyejoo teases. She pats at Chaewon’s back, somewhere between soothing and attempting to aid the process. “That was almost so cool.”

“Shut up,” Chaewon practically gags. Her mind is already clouding over.

Hyejoo tsks. “The lengths you’ll go to pretend you don’t want me, huh?”

“That wasn’t what I was getting at,” Chaewon clarifies, to Hyejoo’s surprise. She places a hand on her shoulder to pull her in close. “I’m going to get water and then we’re all going to have another dance party, capeesh?”

Hyejoo nods obediently, eyebrows high on her forehead.

“You’re so high maintenance,” she says fondly.

Chaewon flicks her hair in her face.

-

When she returns from the water fountain in the corner, she finds Heejin, Hyunjin, and Haseul all gathered in a little circle, hands conjoined as they dance sloppily and giggle. She has to look around a bit before she notices Hyejoo crouched over near the blackboard, once more chipping at a leg with her knife diligently. If Chaewon squints, she can already see that the structure is lopsided.

Chaewon pulls on her arm impatiently, tucking her hand into her own stomach. “C’mon, delinquent.”

She doesn’t really leave room for protestation, just drags Hyejoo over to the others and then turns towards her and starts jumping up and down to the same imaginary rhythm as they are. She feels almost floaty from the weed.

Hyejoo watches her for a long moment. The taller girl’s features are soft, welcoming. After a while, she reaches for Chaewon’s waist and pulls her closer so that they can dance in sync. Their faces remain inches apart, and Hyejoo even nudges her nose with her own once or twice.

“We’re like the breakfast club!” Haseul suddenly exclaims loudly, arms thrown into the air. “Get it? Morning detention?”

“You are _so_ smart, Haseul,” Heejin says slowly. “You’re probably my smartest friend.”

Haseul’s jaw drops dramatically. “Oh my God, are we friends now?”

“What? Of course,” Heejin returns with a twirl. Hyunjin nods along, but it’s hard to tell if she’s engaging or just bopping her head.

Chaewon agrees silently, for her part; they’re all friends now, and she’s not about to just forget about it once there’s no detention to bind them together.

-

Detention comes to an end, as all good things do (and Chaewon cannot _believe _she’s actually thinking that right now). There’s a melancholy that settles into the room when Principal Jeong dismisses them, a reluctance to their efforts to pack up their things. Heejin and Hyunjin are the first to leave, and, of course, it’s together. Hyejoo didn’t bring a bag to pack, but she kind of hovers around like she’s waiting for Chaewon to give her direction.

Chaewon takes one look at Haseul packing up all of her homework and waves Hyejoo on. Before the girl can look disappointed or offended, she says, “I’ll meet you in the hallway, okay?”

Hyejoo nods before exiting.

“Hey, Haseul?” Chaewon says, voice small. Now that they’re alone, she’s strangely kind of nervous.

Haseul’s gaze snaps to her face.

“Um… you’re really cool, you know?” Chaewon says. Haseul immediately flushes red. “You should… you should approach me at school. I’ll talk to you, if you want. Any time.”

Haseul looks pleased as punch, for a split second. Then her eyes narrow. “Why do _I_ have to approach _you_?”

Chaewon giggles. “Because you’re braver than me, duh.”

At that, Haseul grins. Chaewon nods to herself and waits until Haseul is ready to leave before bidding her goodbye with a, “I’ll expect to be seeing you around!”

She stands there for another moment afterwards, taking in the empty library before her. It feels different now – no longer just an academic prison, it’s the backdrop of several big changes in her life. And there’s one more left.

The thought makes her chest buzz anxiously, and she bites her lip before heading for the hallway.

-

She finds Hyejoo pacing, hair mussed from the amount of times she’s run her hand through it. The girl focuses all of her attention on her the moment the library door clicks shut.

When Chaewon doesn’t say anything, Hyejoo opens, “So…”

There’s trepidation in her eyes as Chaewon slowly approaches.

“I have something for you,” Chaewon says. Though she looks confused, Hyejoo watches patiently as Chaewon unfastens her left earring. It’s a shimmery little diamond inlaid in gold, a gift from her parents for one of the Christmases they’d actually been present for. Together with the right, by far her most prized and adored set.

She grabs for Hyejoo’s hand, pulling it between them and placing the object in the center of her gloved palm. Then, she curls Hyejoo’s fingers around it, delicately and lingeringly.

When she’s done, she watches as Hyejoo takes the earring and starts to put it in her own right lobe. There’s a foreign rigidness to her movements.

“Something else to remember you by?” she asks gruffly, a little insecure. Chaewon can see that beneath her usual feigned nonchalance, Hyejoo is practically shaking with nerves. It somehow calms the uncertainty that had been swirling in her own chest.

If Chaewon has learned anything these past four weeks, it’s that she doesn’t _need_ her extracurriculars. She used to think she did, used to be desperate to fill all the silence and replace all the emptiness. But she has Sooyoung and Jiwoo no matter what, and now she has the breakfast club, too.

She doesn’t need her extracurriculars, or the people that come with them. But she _wants_ Hyejoo.

So, so badly.

“I was actually thinking something a little more possessive,” she says, and then rises on tiptoes and tugs on Hyejoo’s neck so she can kiss her properly.

She expects the way Hyejoo initially freezes up. What she doesn’t expect is the almost immediate subsequent melting of the taller girl into her, the way she kisses her like she’s been thinking about it her whole life. It’s almost overwhelming, but in a way that leaves her blood singing, and Chaewon is happy to have Hyejoo back her against the lockers.

When they break for air, she realizes she has no idea how long it’s been.

“We should probably-” Hyejoo lands a peck on the corner of her mouth “-um, go somewhere else?”

Hyejoo shakes her head as she nuzzles at her jaw.

“This might be my only chance to kiss you in the hallway, though,” she says quietly.

It’s Chaewon’s turn to melt, fingers tangling in Hyejoo’s hair as she lets the other girl kiss her however much she wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all didn't think there was gonna be more angst, did you? bc i think hyejoo and chaewon have earned all of the fluff :3 if you enjoyed this, please please leave kudos/comments. they make me so happy to see <3


	6. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH IT'S THE END?!?!?! i started posting this fic over a year ago, and i think i started planning it about a year and a half ago... kind of crazy that it's all over now, but i really hope you guys enjoy and that i've delivered something that feels emotionally impactful in a satisfying sort of way,,, that's the goal, anyways! enough of me, go read!!!!!!!

_\+ epilogue +_

Hyejoo stands stock-still, leather at her back clinging to the tile wall behind her uncomfortably. She takes several measured breaths as she waits and prays that no one else will enter the westside girls’ bathroom.

Finally, three quick but resounding knocks on the wood of the door. Hyejoo counts exactly three more breaths before her arm is shooting out of the threshold, finding purchase on a cotton top and _tugging_.

Chaewon kind of screeches, before she remembers to bite her tongue. Hyejoo still presses her back against the door now that she’s inside the room, still covers her mouth with her palm as she raises her eyebrows teasingly.

“See, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to announce to the whole school that we’re about to make out in a bathroom,” she says. Kisses the other girl’s cheek, because the furrow in her brow is just so damn cute. Then she removes her palm from Chaewon’s mouth so she can tug at her nape and kiss her plump lips properly.

“Joke’s on you, I’d love to tell the whole school Olivia Hye doesn’t just let me call her _Hyejoo_,” Chaewon snarks between kisses. Hyejoo becomes a little more aggressive as a result, but Chaewon still slips in: “Sometimes it’s _jagi_ or _baby_.” She goes for a deeper kiss this time, Chaewon’s words seemingly swallowed whole as the girl hums into her. Regardless, “Even called her—”

Hyejoo cuts her off again, fearful of any variety of possibilities slipping from Chaewon’s lips while they’re _at school_. It doesn’t matter if no one can hear them; it’s the principle of the thing. Hyejoo might be losing her touch but that doesn’t mean she has to_ accept _it just yet.

For her part, Chaewon shuts up firmly. It’s a good minute before she claws into Hyejoo’s shirt and whispers, “If things were different…”

Hyejoo can see the way the light in her eyes dims, the disappointed and remorseful set of her features. In turn, Hyejoo shushes her with feathery kisses at her eyelids and cheekbones. “I know, sweetheart.”

“I wish—” Chaewon starts again, but her voice is so wistful and her eyes are so sad and Hyejoo can’t stand to see her like this, doesn’t want her ever feeling like this.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she cuts off quietly. “You know I do, too. But,” and she pops the ‘b’ obnoxiously as she speaks, “you’re stuck with me regardless.”

When she smirks her most annoying smirk, she gets the exact reaction she was hoping for: Chaewon with a bratty little eye roll and then the beginnings of a genuine smile at the corners of her lips.

“Lest we forget,” Hyejoo continues with a Haseul-approved English Lit word, tilting Chaewon’s jaw with her thumb, “I live in your house now.”

There’s a glint to Chaewon’s eyes, something fond and proud. She smooths the fur-trimmed lapel of Hyejoo’s jacket sweetly (and, yeah, okay, it’s brand new because Chaewon bought it for her).

They’d only been dating for maybe two weeks when Chaewon started coming up with more and more excuses for Hyejoo to stay at her place, and before she knew it, half of her stuff was there, too. By the time Chaewon’s parents realized they had another member of the household (several weeks later, mind you), Hyejoo was already moved in. Somehow, Chaewon convinced her parents to let her stay – Hyejoo wasn’t privy to those conversations, but she’s pretty sure Chaewon’s parents wouldn’t be so keen on it if they knew Hyejoo spent most nights in their princess’ bed.

As for her dad? Well, Hyejoo used to make a lot of jokes about how rich people could buy _literally anything_. It made Chaewon sad, though, so she tries not to say stuff like that anymore.

Chaewon hums at her, pink dusting her cheeks and collarbones. “Definitely the prettiest live-in we’ve ever had,” she assesses.

Hyejoo’s eyebrows hike up her forehead. “You got a lot of experience with live-ins?”

“Well, there was the gardener’s son,” Chaewon teases. When Hyejoo growls, she bats her eyelashes and giggles. “And the pool boy, too…”

Hyejoo’s grip on her waist tightens as she nibbles at the square of Chaewon’s jaw, knowing all too well that Chaewon only says such things when she wants Hyejoo to be a little possessive. Sure enough, her resultant sigh is bordering on blissful, and when Hyejoo presses their foreheads together, the smaller girl’s features are soft and open.

“Tell them to get in line,” Hyejoo says gruffly. Chaewon kisses the corner of her mouth.

“No line.” She shakes her head. “Only a dot.”

Hyejoo’s brow furrows as she grimaces. “This sounds like Algebra, I’m gonna have to ask—”

Sure enough, two precise knocks identical to the ones from earlier sound against the door.

“Speak of the devil,” Hyejoo huffs.

Chaewon grins at her pout. “Hall Monitor Haseul with her two-minute warning.”

“Time isn’t real.” Hyejoo dismisses with another sound kiss.

But Chaewon’s mind is already wandering; she can tell by her distracted reciprocation.

“You having lunch with her and Yerim again?”

Hyejoo nods, rubbing her forehead against Chaewon’s in acquiescence. “Yeah, Tweedledum and Tweedledumber are joining us today.”

Though Chaewon gasps and slaps at her bicep, high-pitched laughter still breaks through.

“I wish I could join,” Chaewon complains, but before Hyejoo can even whine at her to stop she’s adding, “We should invite them all for a sleepover this weekend.”

“Yes, dear,” Hyejoo returns rotely. Then she’s diving in for a long, languid kiss, because… well, because she wants to make the most out of the next seventy or so seconds.

When the warning bell rings and they part, Hyejoo figures she’s accomplished her goal of kissing the living daylights out of her girlfriend because Chaewon’s floundering, properly disoriented. She blinks up at her, seemingly frustrated by her own returning cognizance.

“I think I could be a _little_ late,” she flirts, already leaning back in. This time, Hyejoo maintains their distance.

“You don’t wanna be, princess,” she counters quietly. “You’ll get detention again.”

Chaewon rolls her eyes. “The absolute _horror_.”

Hyejoo can’t help the way her chest fills with warmth, or the way it stretches her mouth into a grin. “I’m almost done with my sentence,” she reminds proudly. Chaewon’s own eyes soften before she kisses her again, and this time the gesture is a statement in itself. Hyejoo only lingers for a moment, and then she’s gently pushing her girlfriend back.

“Go to class, you little delinquent,” she insists. Chaewon grins her wonky grin and bounces on the balls of her feet before kissing her cheek with finality.

“Fine, goody-two-shoes,” she teases. Just as she turns to exit, she throws out, “Love you.”

Hyejoo’s jaw drops. The door swings shut and her heart is stuttering in her chest, almost concernedly irregular.

She blinks. That was an accident, right? It didn’t sound like Chaewon meant to slip up, but she didn’t panic or turn right back around either.

Excitement and worry battle it out as her breath shortens.

She should’ve said it back!

A pause as she forces a deep inhale, wobbly legs anchoring her to the door. Clarity hits just as she turns the knob, exhaling, and she can’t help but smile serenely when every other emotion gradually quiets.

She can tell Chaewon she loves her too when she sees her at home later. They have all the time in the world now, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <33333 if you enjoyed, please please please leave kudos/comments/etc. they really do mean so much to me, and inspire me to keep writing! i may or may not have a couple more hyewon ideas, and one or two yvesoul ones as well... :D
> 
> if you wanna chat/are open to me ranting at you 24/7, you can find me on twitter with the same user @roguefembot :) OH ALSO i've written other hyewon fics, you should check them out!


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